


Rage II

by BeautyKiller



Series: RAGE [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Angry Harry Potter, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ankle Cuffs, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bottom Draco Malfoy, Bottom Harry Potter, Cock Rings, Collars, Contracts, Divorced Astoria Greengrass & Draco Malfoy, Divorced Harry Potter & Ginny Weasley, Dom Draco Malfoy, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Flogging, Fluff and Angst, Gratuitous Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue Compliant, Hate Sex, Heavy BDSM, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Large Cock, M/M, Minor Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini, Nipple Clamps, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Paddling, Porn With Plot, Powerful Harry Potter, Rape/Non-con Elements, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Sleep Deprivation, Spanking, Sub Harry Potter, Switching, Top Draco Malfoy, Top Harry Potter, Verbal Humiliation, Vulnerable Harry Potter, Whipping, Wrist Cuffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 82,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23199286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyKiller/pseuds/BeautyKiller
Summary: SEQUEL TO RAGE:Harry and Draco are finally together. Blaise, Draco's former submissive, continues to interfere in their relationship, using his subtle, Slytherin ways.  Draco is suppressing his dominant side in order to be with Harry. He could never treat the hero of Wizarding World as a submissive, could he? Chaos abounds when Harry insists on being viewed as more than the wholesome hero.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: RAGE [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667914
Comments: 282
Kudos: 312





	1. Six Months Later

_***Must read Rage I first***_

_Harry._ Just the thought of him made his heart kick into overdrive. Draco never thought he would become a lovesick fool like the people he mocked holding hands as they walked down Diagon Alley, but now he was one of them. Ever since The Daily Profit ran the article proclaiming Draco Malfoy as Harry Potter's secret lover, their relationship was no longer something to hide and Draco found himself falling deeper in love with him every day. 

To his dismay, he discovered that Harry was a huge fan of public displays of affection. Harry never cared about the barrage of cameras that would flash as he held Draco's hand in public whilst out on a shopping trip. At first Draco was alarmed by this behavior and would quickly move his hand away.

“No one wants to see that,” he’d insist.

“Who cares what they want? I love you. I don’t care who knows it.”

Draco would blush at this response and slowly, over the course of a few months, got used to Harry’s public affections, even relished in them.

He left for France Wednesday evening parting from a reluctant Harry with a soft kiss. His French chateau was in a dilapidated state needing numerous renovations and he'd been putting this trip off in light of his...hot love affair. The initial plan was for Harry to meet him in France via international portkey on Friday evening, but those plans quickly fell through. He received an urgent owl from Harry Friday morning, explaining that a huge case had come up, forcing him to work through the weekend. As he was the head auror, he could not abandon his team. He apologized profusely in the letter and detailed all the naughty things he would be doing to Draco, once he returned home. Harry still made love to him, three or four times a week, with a tenderness he had never experienced in his life, and he found he enjoyed his new role as the bottom, even craved it. With Harry, it just seemed right. It was the natural order of things.

The manager of his property, Gabriel, was a severely handsome, short frenchman. He had dark hair, light eyes, and a delicious blush staining his cheeks whenever Draco was around. He was on the skinny side but toned with sinewy muscles. Draco often though he would make the perfect bottom but never engaged with him when he was married because he was too close to the family. Astoria knew Gabriel well. If he was not with Harry, he wouldn't think twice about bending him over his French balcony and fucking him until he screamed loud enough for all of Paris to hear.

As it is, Draco had to behave. He was tempted, with Harry being so far away and not having been a top for many months, but he was not tempted enough to be unfaithful. He was however grateful to Gabriel who, in the past, had informed Draco of an underground gay BDSM club in Paris. Draco pretended to be offended by the information, back then, while still married to Astoria, but he always visited the club on the rare weekends he was in France.

By the time Saturday night rolled around, Draco was a pent up ball of sexual frustration. When Harry was around, Draco’s dominant side became quiet and subdued, but it never totally vanished. It was a part of him the same way his platinum hair and grey eyes were.

It wasn’t that the sex wasn’t enough with Harry. To the contrary, the sex with Harry was incredible. He enjoyed being crushed by Harry’s larger body, fucked into the mattress until he screamed, being filled to the point of bursting with raw power.

When he was left to his own devices, however, it was a different matter. This was so rarely the case as he was hardly ever apart from Harry. Still, when he was left alone he couldn’t help visions flashing into his mind of ropes and chains, of a screaming voice protesting his hard thrusts.

They would sometime creep up in his dreams, but he would roll over, cuddle against Harry and forget all about them. The problem with these dreams and fantasies is that they often involved Blaise whom he now hated. Blaise did not deserve to star in his sex dreams after his despicable betrayal. It was only because Blaise had been so often a vital part of his dominant experiences.

And so, it was with the intention to garner fresh fantasy material that he dressed in his best night clothes and prepared to go to the muggle club, _Le Donjon,_ or The Dungeon. He wore all black as was his custom. A fitted black V-neck shirt and too-tight black trousers contrasted sharply with his platinum hair and porcelain skin.

Everywhere Draco went in France, he was ogled at openly by both men and women. Most Frenchman were short and Draco towered over them with his lithe 6’1 frame. Paired with his white-blonde hair and grey eyes, Draco was an exotic tourist who probably starred in their fantasies. _Le Donjon_ was no exception.

The first floor of the establishment was a normal muggle gay club, dark with laster lights, pounding music, and gyrating bodies grinding up against each other. Men with spiked collars and black leather masks danced provocatively in cages suspended above the dance floor. The whole club was BDSM themed. Draco relished in all the eyes that stared at him in pure lust as he slowly walked through the crowd. Some were daring enough to run their hands over his body on his way to the bar. Draco did not mind. He was not planning on fucking anyone in this club, above ground or below. There was no harm in being touched.

He knew Harry would be hurt if he ever found out he had come here, but as he was planning to remain completely faithful, he did not see the harm in engaging his retinas with a little domination/submission action. Harry did not need to be exposed to this part of himself. He was too pure for this darker side of Draco.

The owner of _Le Donjon_ greeted Draco like an old friend when he arrived at the bar. Draco was thankful he was always there on Saturday nights, otherwise, it may have been difficult to gain access to the underground. The owner made him an old fashioned and Draco paid for the drink with four hundred dollar bills, silently communicating to him what he really came for. He was sure to always bring muggle money with him whenever he ventured into the muggle part of France. He was also sure he overpaid, but it was just money. He had more. Nothing could replace the love and trust it inspired in people such as the owner of this nightclub. It was the reason he was greeted so warmly.

He personally led Draco to a heavy black metal door that was guarded by an oversized bouncer and was immediately let through. They descended a long, dark, staircase that was lit softly by dark red light. There was a small foyer at the bottom with a hostess who greeted them enthusiatically.

“Bienvenue dans le donjon souterrain, où tous vos fantasmes deviennent réalité. N'oubliez pas qu'il n'y a pas de règles ici dans le métro. Nous espérons que vous serez en sécurité et que vous profiterez de votre soirée.”

_Welcome to the underground dungeon, where all your fantasies come true.Remember, there are no rules here in the underground. We hope you will be safe and enjoy your evening._

A pile of condoms glistened in glass in front of her like an obscene candy bowl. Draco had an idea of what they were used for but found the idea of putting synthetic muggle plastic on top of his dick distasteful. He thanked merlin he did not have to live like that, as he was a wizard and could simply cast protective charms wandlessly not that he would need them tonight.

The minute he walked through the door to the dark dungeon, he closed his eyes in blessed relief to focus on the sounds. There was soft French music playing in the background. The loudest sound was a scream of severe pain following the harsh crack of a leather whip. Beyond that, Draco heard the groans and grunts of many different patrons who were no doubt being reamed by a hard cock or fucking someone, in turn. He heard occasional screams of ecstasy and the sound of flesh slapping flesh.

Underneath those, he heard his favorite sound of all, the faint rattling of chains.

Draco sighed deeply. He had no idea how much he missed this side of himself until this very moment. He finally opened his eyes, but it made little difference. The dungeon was mostly dark at the entrance, but the sounds permeated his soul. He could see shadows moving at the far edges of the rooms and knew there were multiple passages that led to more secluded rooms for a more private experience. All these rooms were free to be observed or participated in by any patron who was both lucky and rich enough to gain entrance.

Draco followed the sounds of the rattling chains to a secluded room down a narrow passageway. The observers in the room were mostly cast in shadow, but he could tell there were at least ten men in the room. The sexual scene being preformed was lit by a single red light from overhead.

He was sure to pause at the entrance, as it was also lit by a red light and anyone who entered or exited could be seen clearly. He wanted to be seen and ogled. He wanted them to imagine him fucking them hard until they screamed. Though he could not see them, it made his cock stir knowing that they were imagining themselves bent over in front of him, taking his thick cock deep inside their hole.

It was obvious that Draco was a dominant in the BDSM world. Though he was lean, he was also tall, and his calm mask of indifference gave off an intense sexual energy of authority and control. He imagined it was his auror training that did it, or maybe it was because his ethereal good looks inspired lust in every sex.

He walked slowly to the empty couch in the center of the front row and sat down gracefully. The front row was mostly unoccupied save for two men sitting in chairs at opposite ends. Sitting further back insured anonymity as it was cast in complete darkness. The front row was dimly lit by both the bright red light that shined over the sex scene and the light from the entrance. Draco did not mind being seen by these muggles. He relished in it. He took a sip of his drink and observed the scene before him. His cock hardened like a lightening rod.

A young man was bent over a small rectangular table. His wrists were chained down at the end of it, fully extended downwards, and his ankles were chained apart on the opposite end. He was completely naked and soaked with sweat. He was being penetrated at both ends. A tall, burly dark haired man was ramming into him brutally from behind while another shorter man stood in front feeding him his cock. The chains rattled loudly against the metal legs of the table as the man behind him thrust forward at a relentless pace, slapping his flesh loudly. He was grunting with each thrust. Suddenly, the man in front of him, pulled out, rapidly stroking his cock to reach orgasm, and blew his load all over his face, groaning loudly. The chained man closed his eyes tight against the onslaught and cum splattered the floor beneath him as it dripped down his chin. This seemed to trigger the man behind him to reach orgasm, as well. He pulled out of him swiftly, removed the muggle plastic enclosing his cock and shot his load all over his ass. When he was done, he smacked his ass and left the room.

Draco was in heaven. This was exactly what he needed, fresh fantasy material. He imagined it was he that was reaming the smaller man, chained to the table. How he longed to be the cause of those rattling chains.

A night club worker in short black shorts and only a bowtie sprang forward, to clean him. He used a wet wash cloth to wipe off all the cum and offered the chained man water to sip through a straw. When he was done, he rested his head on the table, turning to observe his audience. He immediately locked eyes with Draco.

His look almost made Draco forget he was in a relationship. It was a desperate, pleading gaze. Draco knew what it meant. He wanted to be fucked by Draco and fully expected it to happen, as the submissive was extremely handsome with a slight muscular build. Most of the observers eventually became participants, if they liked what they saw. The chained man looked a lot like Harry with black wavy hair and light eyes, though his frame was much smaller, the way a perfect submissive should be. The man did not break eye contact with Draco for several minutes, while he recuperated. Draco wanted to stroke his cock through his trousers at his gaze. He knew he could pull his dick out and wank, as most behind him had been doing, but he felt it was undignified to do so. He would wait until he returned home. He maintained a calm, politely disinterested expression, as he looked back at him, and sipped his drink, daintily. It only spurred the tabled man on. He licked his lips obscenely at Draco.

In the past, this had never been a problem, as he usually became a participant. Many approached him for sex at this club and he was only too happy to oblige, that is, if they did not mind being chained and whipped. That type of treatment was too much for a wizard, even for Blaise. He was very picky, when choosing a parter, and almost always chose someone who looked like Harry, now that he thought about it. He did not count these muggles as part of his sexual exploits, as he did not even know their names. Only Blaise and Harry registered as true sexual partners. This was just his fantasy world.

The chained man mouthed “please” to Draco, and Draco had to close his eyes against it. He was excruciatingly hard and tried to focus his gaze elsewhere. Unfortunately, his eyes landed on a glass cabinet against the wall that held different styles of whips. This man was, apparently, game for all types of submissive exploits, from the right type of dominant.

Draco was sorely tempted but held his ground. He promised himself he would not cheat on Harry, even if it was not possible he would ever find out. Draco would know and the guilt would eat him alive. This was Harry’s biggest fear, that Draco would cheat on him with some submissive bloke, and he loved him too much to have that fear realized.

Fortunately, after a few minutes, a man of medium build and inconsequential looks strode forward. He was dressed like an investment banker and wore a gold metal band on his ring finger. He whispered softly to the submissive and stroked his hair gently. Draco could not hear what was being said, but he saw the chained man nod to him and the investment banker began to disrobe. He went to the glass cabinet and withdrew a gag that he tied around his mouth and a long leather whip. He stroked the leather over his ass softly for a few moments and then cracked it once over ass, with modest strength. The man on the table moaned behind his gag and Draco saw his cock harden, as it was poking out from the back end of the table. The man continued whipping him gently and the chained man’s cock started leaking pre-cum on the floor.

_Oh gods._ The tabled man made the perfect pain slut. He was loving every second of it. He thought he might die if he did not take over and whip him, himself. The man of modest looks was being too gentle with him. Draco could tell the submissive wanted more.

His cock was tenting his trousers and a large dark spot had already formed. Suddenly, an attractive Moroccan man with large lips stood up from the far chair and approached him. He paid him no notice, even when he knelt in front of him. He just continued to observe the scene up front and sip his drink. The man looked up at him, waiting for permission, but he pretended he was not even there. He bent his head to mouth his large, hard cock through his trousers. Draco drew in a breath but did not stop him right away. The pressure was incredible. When the man went to unbuckle his trousers, he finally put his drink down.

He grabbed the man’s head with both hands and smashed his face down on his clothed cock, hard, thrusting upwards, then threw him aside. Standing up swiftly, he left the room.

It had become too much to endure. He knew that if he stayed another moment longer, he would cheat on Harry. He would face fuck that attractive moroccan man until he choked and gagged on his thick cock. He would grab the whip from that mediocre looking man and crack the soft leather on that ass the way the submissive truly craved. He would fuck him so hard that his chains would rattle and break the legs of the table. He would make him scream loud enough to be heard, from all the way upstairs.

He practically ran up those stairs, before he could change his mind. He barreled through the crowd, desperate for fresh air and sense. He needed to remember himself before he became slave to this smaller, significantly darker, part of himself.

When he finally got out onto the street, he pushed his dick down and took a few deep breaths of the cool air. He forced himself to focus on Harry and he eventually started to calm down. He walked all the way back to his chateau, needing to clear his head.

When he arrived home, his erection had subsided. Everything would be fine. He would go home early tomorrow and settle into Harry’s warm embrace. He would forget all about this and everything would return to normal.

_______________________________________________________

Sunday morning came and Draco was eager to go home. He needed Harry, badly. He gave a few last minute instructions to Gabriel and disapparated to the international portkey station in the wizarding part of Paris. There was still so much more to be done at the chateau and he would have to return the following weekend, but he refused to visit France, without Harry in tow. He would not make it through next time, as a faithful man.

He had to wait. The next portkey to England was not for another hour. He sighed as he thought back to the previous night. He crossed his legs to stave off an erection and decided to sharpen his French by reading the local newspaper. He needed something to take his mind off those haunting visions. Going to _Le Dongon_ last night turned out to be a terrible idea. It had awakened dormant, dominant feelings in Draco that he was ashamed to feel.

After about fifteen minutes, a young handsome French wizard sat at Draco’s side. He began speaking to him in rapid French, complimenting his crocodile shoes. Draco was clearly too fashion forward to be straight, even in France. He then asked Draco what he did for a living. When he said that he was an auror, his eyes widened, but it was not enough for him to leave. They chatted back and forth. The man could tell he was English and complimented his perfect French accent with a handsome, suggestive grin.It took Draco all of two minutes to realize this young man was gay and heavily hitting on him. He noticed no ring on Draco’s finger and assumed he was available. The young frenchman told him that he was going to the men’s room, and would he like to accompany him?

Draco just stared at him blankly, with a flat expression. The man stood up and walked to the bathroom that was not far away. He rose his eyebrows suggestively at Draco and walked through, letting the door close softly behind his perfectly round ass. Putting down his paper, Draco took this private moment to grasp his hair, pulling painfully. He was being tempted, yet again. _Gods,_ would there be no end to these heavy temptations? He had completely forgotten how much more sexually liberated France was, compared to England. Fucking that attractive man in the bathroom was no longer an option, with Harry in the picture, but he definitely considered it.

He did not make it this far, only to fail forty-five minutes before he was going to see Harry again. He was being driven mad with lust in this god-forsaken country. He grabbed his trunk and walked far away from the spot so that the man would not be able to find him again.

_________________________________________________________

When he finally arrived at Malfoy Manor, he was thankful that he arrived in one, faithful piece. It came close, too close, to not being the case.

“Honey, I’m home!”

He grinned at his corny greeting. He heard rushed footsteps and Harry burst through the parlor. His face broke into a large, handsome grin as he embraced Draco, crushing his bones. Draco was instantly assaulted by his familiar oaky scent. He melted against his warmth and his strong arms. He instantly felt better and memories of the weekend quickly quieted, dipping lower to his subconscious where he would not have to think of them again.

Harry inhaled him deeply.

“ _gods,_ I missed you so much. Please don’t ever go away for so long, again.”

Draco privately agreed not to. Harry released him to give him a soft kiss. It was meant only to be a kiss of greeting but it sparked the fire of lust Draco had been feeling all weekend and he practically raped Harry’s mouth with his tongue. He wrapped his hands around his neck roughly and kissed him all over his face, licking and sucking back towards his ear, whispering “I need you.”

Harry instantly fell down on his knees and unbuckled Draco’s trousers quickly, pulling out his cock. He sucked him right down to the hilt, self-inflicting his gagging reflex. Draco sighed in relief at the blissful feeling of Harry’s warm, wet mouth and began stroking his hair, down to his cheeks, lovingly. This was all he needed. He just needed his Harry again. That’s all it was. He was just missing him. His hot mouth. His suctioned cheeks.

Harry sucked his cock with increased skill and precision, pressing down on the underside of cock with his tongue, and back up to lap around the head of his cock. He sucked rapidly and massaged his balls at the same time. His blowjob skills had significantly improved since the start of their relationship. After only a few minutes, Draco felt his orgasm upon him and grabbed Harry’s hair to warn him, but he ignored it and increased his sucks until Draco groaned through his orgasm, cumming right in his mouth. Harry gave his balls a light squeeze to milk him completely.It was a lot of cum, five days’ worth. Some dripped out of his mouth onto the floor. Harry didn’t swallow every time, but when he did, it was huge turn on. He swallowed it all, looking up at Draco and licking his lips.

Draco grinned dazedly at him. His love for him him surged inside his body. It seemed preposterous that only last night, only an hour ago, he considered cheating on him. He could never do anything to jeopardize this.

“I’m preparing roast and potatoes for dinner.”

“Harry, I love you so much.”

Harry rolled his eyes and chuckled.

“You always say that when there’s roast and potatoes.”

Draco chuckled, remembering that Astoria used to say the same exact thing. He marveled at the fact that this too, seemed like a marriage, already, but it was so much better than what he had before. Draco felt like the luckiest guy on the planet to have this comfortable domesticity with Harry. He congratulated himself for resisting those stupid temptations from the weekend and vowed to never think of them again.

__________________________________________________

That evening, as Draco showered, Harry lit the bedroom with soft candlelight, after disrobing. He took massage oil from the drawer and placed it on top of the nightstand. When Draco came out, he smiled at the warm sight. Harry’s naked body on display, with his broad shoulders, huge cock, bulging muscles, and piercing green eyes, always made him swoon. This was love, he thought. This was so much better than anything that could be found in a dinky dungeon.

“I thought I could give you a massage before bed. You seem tense today.”

Draco smiled and nodded at him. He did not notice he was tense or behaving in such a manor to reveal it, but perhaps, it was subconscious.

Draco lay naked on the bed, on his stomach. Harry drizzled the oil over his skin and gently messaged the back of his whole body, from his trapezius down to his feet. Draco moaned in pleasure throughout. It reminded him of the very first time they had sex in Turkey. Draco gave him a massage just like this, before he took his virgin hole, for the first time. When Harry worked back up towards his ass, he moved his oily fingers inside the cleft, across his hole and dipped his fingers inside a few times. He groaned as he squeezed the firm glutes in his palms.

“You have the most perfect ass and its all mine. I’m the luckiest guy in the world.”

He rubbed his naked, erect cock across Draco’s hole, but he did not enter. Draco loved every second of Harry’s tender worship, but he needed to be breeched. He needed that sharp burning sensation to fully bring him back to being Harry’s Draco. He pushed his ass up high and moved it slowly around, teasingly.

Harry slid down Draco’s legs and wandlessly cast a cleaning charm at his hole. He licked his hole up and down slowly, from his perineum to above his hole and down again, while Draco moaned freely under him.He kissed and sucked at his entrance, with abandon. That secret spot was so sensitive, full of nerve endings, and every single one fired with pure pleasure. His cock began to harden to full mast under Harry’s ministrations, especially when he began thrusting his fingers inside, opting to prepare him the manual way, instead of using magic. He pushed down on his prostate and lapped the rim with his tongue, moaning throughout, almost triggering Draco’s orgasm.

When Draco started shaking, he stopped and flipped him around so that he could enter him face to face. He kissed Draco on the mouth and thrust his tongue inside. The cleaning charms insured he did not have any remnants of Draco’s taste from his previous activity.He tasted only Harry, and he tasted just like home.

He put one hand around the back of Draco’s neck, boring into his eyes,and used his other hand to guide his cock to its target. Draco spread his knees, high and wide.

He groaned in pleasure when he was breeched. He had long grown accustomed to being Harry’s bottom and relished the initial sting of being entered. Harry slid all the way in and stilled. Kissing Draco, he put both hands behind his neck, and then buried his face in his chest.

“ _Oh gods_. You’re so tight, baby. I missed this.”

Draco missed it too. Being crushed by Harry’s body, surrounded by his warmth, breached by his thick cock, was a heady sensation that made his head swim. Harry’s constant kissing only drove him to greater heights as he plunged inside, slowly. When Harry started moving faster, thrusting in and out, he moaned freely, no longer caring how he sounded. There was no shame to be had between them anymore. Draco did not have to hide. He knew Harry loved his noises, having been subjected to his quiet sex habits, in the beginning.

Faster and faster Harry drove into him, angling purposely at the place he knew his prostate to be. Draco felt pleasure paralyzing every cell in his body. He was lost in a sea of desire, no longer thinking of anything, only feeling. Little electric shocks made him shake and shiver every time Harry hit his sweet spot. Harry, feeling dangerously close to the edge, already, used one hand to stroke Draco’s cock to completion. It only took ten firm strokes and Draco was shooting his thick load all over his own stomach. Harry moaned at the feeling of those tight inner muscles clenching around him and buried his head in Draco’s armpit as he pounded into him, hard, for another full minute, holding the back of his neck for leverage. He shouted through his own orgasm as it tore out of him and filled Draco to the brim with his cum, pumping in shallow strokes, long after it was over. Finally, he went limp, leaning his whole weight on top Draco, trying to catch his breath. Draco didn’t mind. He could fall asleep with Harry’s cock inside him. That feeling of fullness that Harry gave him, his heavy weight resting on top of him, was the best feeling in the world.

Harry kissed him sensually, one last time and sighed, resting his head on his chest.

“I wish I could stay buried inside you, forever.”

Smiling, Draco realized they were starting to reflect each other’s thoughts. Sleep was fast upon him as his travel had drained him of all energy. Though he had grown accustomed to bottoming, it still always hit him with a powerful wave of exhaustion, once it was over. He rested his eyes for a moment and quickly fell asleep.

________________________________________________________________

The next day, at work, Harry went down to the atrium for lunch in an unconscionably good mood. Draco had fallen asleep with his cock still buried inside him, right after sex, and he glowed with pride knowing he tired him to the point of passing out. Draco wanted to work through lunch so he went to grab them both a bite to eat to bring back to his office.

He had been in a good mood for months now, but the only thing that was able to sour his mood was the off-chance that he would run into Blaise at the ministry. Harry did not know why it boiled his blood, just to see him. He was the one who won Draco and Blaise had lost. He could not name a single reason to hate the man, but his hatred burned strong, even after all these months of having Draco wrapped around his arms.

After he picked up lunch, he was standing in a long line to pay, daydreaming of last night’s intense lovemaking, when he was suddenly followed in line, by none other than Blaise Zabini.

“Daydreaming about your vanilla sex, Potter?”

Harry startled and Blaise began to chuckle softly. He bristled at his rude comment.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? How’s married life with Pansy? Did she dye her hair blonde enough for you yet?”

Blaise huffed, indignant. Harry wanted to bait him further.

“You know, I should probably be thanking you. If it wasn’t for you, outing us to the public, Draco and I would never be where we are now, so, thank you Zabini. Good man.”

Harry smiled warmly at him, mocking him. He knew Blaise had to miss Draco every single night he was apart from him. The platinum haired man was like a siren, and his call would make any man crash their ship into the sharp rocks and happily plummet to their drowning deaths, just to be near him. 

Blaise leaned close, now, whispering vehemently, but softly enough, so that no one around them would hear.

“And where’s that Potter? Having boring sex, by candlelight, no doubt, every single night?”

He laughed softly. It was a cruel sound. Harry hunched his shoulders as a defensive move. His pulse quickened. 

"I know him better than anyone, Potter. I know the deepest, darkest corners of Draco you will never reach. He’ll never fuck you the same way he fucks me. He probably isn’t fucking you at all. He’s hiding himself from you and one day, he will tire of the mundane sex you have to offer. And guess where I’ll be? Waiting, patiently, for him to remember his true self and come back to me, where he belongs.”

Harry’s heart sank at his words. Blaise was hitting his most sensitive spot, his deepest insecurity about Draco since he saw him with Blaise in the pensive, six months ago. He swiftly collected himself, however.

“In your dreams, Zabini.”

Harry quickly paid for the food and went upstairs, back to Draco’s office.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Lunch in Draco’s office was a quiet affair. Draco tried to engage him with discussion about a new case, but Harry was only half-listening. He could not get Blaise’s words out of his head. He was shaken by their interaction. Their conversation played on a loop in his mind driving him closer to the edge. Suddenly, he interrupted.

“I think you should tie me up and fuck me, tonight.”

Draco’s eyes widened.

“Not exactly on topic, Harry. What’s gotten into you? You’ve hardly been listening to me. Did something happen downstairs? You’ve been in a strange mood since you brought us lunch.”

He did not want to tell him what Blaise said. He wanted him to think it was his, independent idea. Besides, Draco would just dismiss it and insist that Blaise was just trying to get under his skin. While that may be true, it did not change the fact that he was haunted by his cruel words and he was afraid he might end up being right, in the end.

Harry could not allow that to happen. His love for Draco lived in every molecule of his body. He often daydreamed of marrying him and could not wait to spend the rest of his life with his blond angel. He planned to propose at the one-year mark, and this needed to be dealt with, before then.

“Nothing happened, but it’s something I’ve been thinking about, for a while now. Please Draco. I want you to do it to me, no holding back. I want to see your dominant side. You always hide it from me. I love you and there’s no part of yourself that I wouldn’t accept.”

Draco internally scoffed at that. He remembered Harry’s face inside that pensive when he let his dominant side out, with Blaise. Harry was horrified and disgusted. He could barely speak afterwards, shell shocked as he was. Harry was not suited for that kind of treatment. He wasn’t broken, sick, and twisted enough to enter the BDSM world. He was good, honest, and brave. Draco could never chain him up and whip him. The whole thing was absurd, and he would never even consider it.

“Harry, what’s this about? Are you unhappy with our lovemaking?I thought last night was lovely.”

_Yikes_ , Draco had called their sex _lovely._ Harry suddenly started to panic, internally. Blaise was right. Draco thought their sex was boring, vanilla and ‘lovely.’ He would soon tire of it. He needed him to think their sex was dirty, raucous, and desperate. 

“No, I’m not unhappy, but I’m insisting on this. I want you to be rough with me. Punish me the way I know you like to.”

“Punish you for what? Being the perfect boyfriend? You’re being silly Harry.”

Harry started getting angry now. He had forgotten the way Draco viewed him, in light of their happy honeymoon phase. He had lost track of his initial hesitancies about Draco who only saw him as the wholesome hero, not a naughty boy who deserved daddy’s punishment. He was stupid enough to get lost in the feeling of being buried deep inside him, flying high on his love. Draco had not topped him in months, and he remembered that being the top was his natural disposition. Draco always insisted on being the one entered with Harry, and he was only too happy to oblige. He was only now, realizing the significance of that. He had forgotten about it completely because Draco had told him he loved him, and it washed all his doubts away. Now, they were resurfacing with a vengeance, in light of his conversation with Blaise.

“What the fuck, Draco. Why do you refuse to do it to me? It never seemed to be a problem to do it to Blaise!”

“Why are you bringing up Blaise, all the sudden? You haven’t mentioned him in months. Listen to me, Harry. I never want you to compare yourself to that codswallop. He’s dead to me. You and I are completely different. Can’t you see how much I love you? I never even came close to feeling about him, the way I feel about you. You’re everything to me, everything I could ever want. The sex is wonderful, as is. I don’t want it any other way. Please, let’s not fight about this.”

Harry huffed, crossing his arms. He was going to lose Draco to Blaise or some other submissive bloke, at this rate. He felt helpless.

Draco came around to Harry, standing above him, and bent down to kiss him softly on the cheek.

“I love you, baby. Please don’t be this way.” Draco looked at him pleadingly and Harry felt weakened by his silver eyes. He stood up, sadly, kissed him softly on the lips and left his office, resigned to defeat.

_____________________________________________________________________

That night, Harry lay awake on Draco’s bed with his body turned away facing the wall, huddled against the far edge. He was still thinking about everything Blaise had said. His eyes prickled when he imagined Draco leaving him. Maybe he would catch him drilling the hole of some submissive prat who loved every second of Draco’s verbal degradation. He never heard it being directed at him, and that was the problem. He only heard flowery words of love from Draco. It would never be enough to keep him. Harry sighed, closing his eyes against the memory of that pensive. It suddenly sharpened in his mind. He remembered Draco’s body, flushed crimson, sweat dripping from his face, as he reamed into Blaise who was tied down to the bed, blindfolded. He had been fucking him for hours. He remembered Draco’s degrading words to Blaise like it were yesterday.

_Oh, yea. Such a good little whore. You’re my property, aren’t you. Could tie you up any way I want. My little bitch boy. My sweet baby boy. Look how good you take it. You like how I pound you? Yea, take it. This ass belongs to me. You’re just a cock hungry slut, aren’t you. Always begging for my cock. I love how you beg. Oh, you take it so good, baby. That’s why I give it to you.No one takes it as good as you. You feel so good inside. So wet. Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum again soon. My little cum slut. Your hole was made for my cum. I wish you could see how good it looks overflowing out of that tight little hole. I could fuck this little bitch hole forever. Squeeze my cock with that hole…Oh yea, that’s it. That’s a good boy. My sweet baby boy._

He felt a hand stroking his arm, startling him out of his reverie. Draco placed a soft kiss on the back of his shoulder. He could feel Draco’s hardness behind him, but he ignored it. Draco pulled him to lie flat on his back and Harry, too sad to resist, allowed it, but he kept his head turned away. Draco’s hand stroked his stomach and dipped lower to grasp his completely flaccid cock. He stroked it for a while, but it refused to rise to the occasion. Dipping his head underneath the green silk comforter, he began to suck.

Harry moaned, despite not being in the mood. Draco’s cock-sucking skills were unparalleled. Harry hardened to fullness within seconds and it was no small organ. He was far bigger than most men, but Draco engulfed his cock to the hilt, without gagging once, and swallowed. _Show off._ Harry burned with anger at Draco’s expert skills that far surpassed his own and wondered if he had gotten so good at sucking cock from his fifteen years of experience with Blaise.

It did nothing to flag his hardness however, as Draco continuously deep throated him, with the intent to make him fall apart at the seams. Harry pulled the covers off to get a better look. When he saw Draco’s bobbing blond head working over him, his eyes prickled again at the thought of this no longer being his reality, in the near future. His orgasm was quickly approaching, in any case, and Draco suddenly released him from his mouth.

Harry locked eyes with him and saw that Draco’s pupils were completely blown to black. Only a thin sliver of silver surrounded the rim. He looked down and noticed his hard cock was leaking pre-cum already. The sight was too much bare and only caused him pain. He looked away as Draco grabbed his wand from the nightstand, cast preparation charms on himself, and promptly sat down on Harry’s cock, engulfing him to the hilt.

Draco moaned and leaned forward to kiss Harry but he kept his head turned away. He seemed to pay no mind and kissed his neck, instead, as he fucked himself slowly onto his cock, languidly and lovingly. Harry could hardly stand it. This was not what Draco really wanted. He was pretending like it was the best feeling in the world, when it should have been Harry fucking himself on Draco’s cock, instead. His leaning over meant that Harry’s cock was not fully engulfed to the base. Harry could last for hours in this position, with him fucking himself slowly onto it. He had before, and this seemed to be Draco’s intention because he kept his pace slow. He refused to do that now.

Keeping his head turned, he pushed Draco’s chest up to sit straight backed onto his cock instead, so that he was now buried completely. Gripping his ass with both hands to control the pace, he began moving his body quickly back and forth to bring himself to a quick orgasm. He put his feet flat on the bed and thrust upwards, hard and fast, gritting his teeth. In under a minute, he forced his orgasm out and shot his load inside Draco, before he even had the chance to cum, then pushed him off.

Draco settled back on the bed next to him and Harry turned his body away, once more. He heard Draco’s breathing even out, indicating that he was asleep. Harry was not so lucky. He stayed awake all night, trying to think of new ways to keep his blond dragon at his side, forever.


	2. Begging for Punishment

In the weeks that followed Harry’s epiphany, he and Draco’s sex life had immensely suffered. As a result, Draco was plagued with a myriad of racing thoughts.

Harry slept many nights away from Draco at Grimmauld Place with the claim that he had been spending too much time away from his children.

“I’m neglecting my kids, Draco. I have to be with them more.”

He confided to Draco that he felt like a terrible father and needed to rectify that. Draco could not argue with him. He knew that family took precedence over everything, and Harry had been spending nearly every night at Malfoy Manor, except on the weekends he had Scorpius. They still had not totally integrated their family lives together. They would often have play dates at the park together, but that was as far as it went. Harry’s children were still getting used to the idea of he and Draco being together. As a result, they both agreed on no sleepovers, when the children were present.

The nights that he did spend in Draco’s bed were almost as bad as the nights they spent apart. Harry was usually the one to initiate sex and had not done so, since the evening he returned from France. Every time Draco did, he was rejected.

Once, Draco had tried to impale himself on Harry, while he was half asleep, in a desperate attempt to relieve the tension, but he was quickly pushed off. Whenever Draco would make the initiative while he was awake, Harry would claim he had a stomach ache or a headache. He would claim his back muscles were sore which they often were, as a remnant of the werewolf attack they endured on the night Harry first made love to him.

Still, Draco knew that was never enough to curb Harry’s lust for him. He felt Harry pulling away from him and hardly knew what to do. His racing thoughts put him on edge. He felt like the anvil would drop on his head, any day now. Harry was getting ready to leave him. He felt it in his bones. In addition to denying him sex, Harry was completely acting out, intentionally being a terrible boyfriend in the hopes that it would lure Draco’s Dom to the surface.

Though Harry had asked for it, Draco firmly believed that Harry would not only be incapable of being his submissive, but that he was insisting on it for the wrong reasons. It was only his jealousy of Blaise that was pushing him into these ludicrous ideas. He wished he knew what suddenly re-sparked it.

It was proven time and time again that Harry had absolutely no idea what a true dominant/submissive relationship really entailed. The fact that he insisted that Draco tie him up and punish him was proof that he could never really be a submissive. A true sub would never insist on anything. That was the whole point. Only Draco was allowed to insist. Blaise had understood that from the very beginning.

Blaise was another problem that had cropped up in these many weeks of Harry distancing himself from him. Though Draco had cut ties from him and still burned from his betrayal, he knew that the person who was suffering the most from Draco being outed to the public was Blaise, himself.

He had expected that outing them to the public would cause their relationship to break apart. Instead, it backfired, and his relationship with Harry had only grown closer.

Instead of getting Draco back, Blaise was forced to follow his relationship with Harry in the papers for many months, as it was still hot news. Everywhere they went together, they were still photographed, holding hands, laughing in the park, eating ice cream together. He knew it was sheer torture for Blaise, who had always wished and dreamed it would be he, in Harry’s spot. Every time he caught his eyes at work, they were full of heartbreak. Without Harry occupying his every thought these last few weeks, he began to notice that Blaise’s demeanor had changed, dramatically. Once, the most flirty and charismatic person Draco had ever known, he was now just a shadow, an empty shell of his former self. He walked everywhere with his head down, barely speaking to anyone.

He could not help feeling pity for the Italian man, who had not only been his submissive, but his best friend for two decades. Now, they were nothing. It was as if Blaise had died, but he was forced to see his sad ghost everywhere. Draco’s anger towards him in the beginning clouded these feelings, and he never had a chance to properly grieve him and move on. It still wasn't enough, however, to let him back into his life, in any capacity. 

Worst of all, his BDSM fantasies that had previously dipped low into his subconscious had resurfaced, with a vengeance, in Harry’s absence. He was now thankful that he had visited _Le Donjon_ in France because now, only half his fantasies starred Blaise. Yet, that half, featuring Blaise’s body tied and bent over, still haunted him.

It did not help that he was running into Blaise more and more, around the ministry. He would not approach him or speak to him, but he did not have to. One look into his pleading submissive eyes was enough to force Draco’s memories of him to the surface.

These were not memories of their regular sex, but rather their countless nights of play. Nights that Draco would tie him up or buckle him to the special table Blaise had in his play room. He remembered the feeling of Blaise’s warm ass, reddened to a tomato, after he had served him the flogger, the paddle, and the riding crop, sometimes all in a single night.

He had not used his safe word in years. He did not have to. Draco had long known all of his hard and soft limits and made sure he enjoyed every second. His single goal was to bring Blaise the utmost pleasure, to make him beg to cum, before Draco had even touched his hole.

This is how Draco lived, for most of his adult sex life, a Dominant who’s main concern was the pleasure of his submissive.

He knew Harry did not understand what this meant. He thought it was about giving all the power to Draco. He thought it was about taking a beating and feeling the pain, being fucked into oblivion until you cried. Yet, the reality was that all the true power lay in the hands of the submissive who could stop their play at any time, using a safe word. The whippings, floggings, and spankings were meant only as a tool to heighten the pleasure of the submissive, not just to please the master.

One had to be programmed differently, like Blaise, to enjoy that. He did not understand that a Dominant would gain absolutely no pleasure in punishing someone, simply for the sake of punishing them.

He considered teaching Harry these things, but was afraid the world of BDSM would send him running for the hills, no matter how much he claimed he wanted it, and he would lose him, for good. He remembered the look of horror on his face in that pensive, and it always made him internally recoil.

After a few weeks of Harry’s acting out, however, he was revisiting the idea of introducing him to BDSM, but there was one major thing that held him back.

Even if Harry could be taught the rules of Dom/sub play, Draco could not see him as a submissive. It just wasn’t in his eyes. With all his raw power, strength, and utter defiance, he imagined he would gravitate towards being a Dominant, if anything at all.

Though Draco allowed himself to be the bottom for Harry, and Harry alone, he would never, ever be his submissive.

He did not think it beneath him, rather, he just wasn’t wired that way. Some people were meant to wield the crop and others were born to feel its sharp sting. Blaise was such a person. Draco firmly believed that Harry, most likely, fell in neither of these categories. He was not at the far end of either kinky spectrum, and that was okay. It was not for everyone. He loved him anyway. He believed he could live his entire life sustained on Harry’s love alone. He was used to living a life of control and denying his baser needs.

It was easy to subdue his dominant side while Harry was so close to him, blanketing him with his waves of power.

With Harry acting out, denying him sex for a few weeks, however, his dominant side reemerged and crushed him with its heavy presence. It felt stronger than ever before, having been denied a submissive for so long. Now it had grown into an ungainly beast, as if punishing Draco for being ignored, these many months.

Draco was haunted by these racing thoughts as he stood in the atrium, trying to decide on lunch, when he spotted Blaise sitting at their table that was hidden in an alcove. They hadlunch together at that table nearly every day for ten years, but Draco had not sat there for six months. Sensing his presence, Blaise looked up and locked eyes with him.

There it was again. That innocent look of pleading, specific to the submissive, alone. That look always tugged at the Dominant within him.Blaise had the same look in his eyes that the chained man at _Le Donjon_ had, one of total and complete surrender. He turned away quickly, trying to ignore it.

Suddenly, he heard a small crash from Blaise’s table. Blaise had stood up, too quickly at the sight of Draco, with his food tray in hand, and had dropped it to the floor. Draco rushed towards him, without thinking, to help him.

“Thanks. You don’t have to. It just slipped. It’s fine Drake. Just go ahead.”

He noticed that as Blaise stood up again, he was walking with a limp and grimacing. Draco had to help him back to his seat and he groaned when he sat down. He could tell Blaise was in serious pain. He sat across from him.

“What’s wrong with your leg?”

Blaise blushed and said, “It’s nothing. It’s not my leg.”

“Then what is it? Tell me.”

Draco used his authoritative Dom voice, with the command to tell him. He knew Blaise would not be able to resist. Blaise’s blush intensified.

“I…went to a BDSM club. A Dom took it too far. He used a cane. It was actually much worse. It’s better now.” 

Draco paled. He immediately began to imagine the horrors Blaise had experienced, going to a BDSM club as an unclaimed submissive. With his devastatingly good looks and surrendering blue eyes, he was vulnerable in such a club and completely unsafe.When out of the country, they often visited these clubs together, but Draco always made him wear a collar. He attached a silver metal leash to it and held it in his hand to make it clear to all the other Doms that he was taken. They always looked at Blaise with envy as they could immediately tell he was the perfect submissive. Though he considered himself sick and perverted, he was relatively tame to other Doms in the BDSM world who could be downright sadistic.

“I thought I told you to never go there, without me.”

“There is no you. You’re gone, Drake. What am I suppose to do? I have needs. Being married to Pansy has only made it worse.”

Draco empathized, completely. When he was married to Astoria, the stark contrast between her body and Blaise’s body, only made him miss his presence more. He didn’t know what to say. He could not forbid him to go there as he was no longer his Dominant. He was no longer anyone’s Dominant. The thought saddened him.

“You shouldn’t be seen sitting with me, Drake. I have to get back to work, anyway. See you around.”

Draco looked around and no one was paying them any mind. He’d been sitting there for all of two minutes, and they were mostly hidden from view. He watched Blaise limp away and it filled him with immense sadness.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

The following weekend, Draco found he was left to his own devices. Astoria had Scorpius and Harry was with his kids at Grimmauld Place. Draco didn’t mind the alone time. He needed time to think and get some shopping done. Harry hated going shopping with him which made him almost miss his shopping partner.He sighed, wishing he could ask his opinion on which color cashmere sweater to purchase, when, almost out of thin air, Blaise materialized next to him.

“The grey one. That mustard will be horrible with your coloring.”

Draco turned his face away to hide a smile.

“Can’t say hello, Drake? Is Harry going to pop out of the silks and beat me up?”

Draco couldn’t help chuckling at that, even though it was an insensitive thing to do. Harry had indeed, once pummeled Blaise thoroughly enough for him to land in the hospital. If Blaise thought it wasn’t too soon to joke about it, then the least Draco could do was oblige.

“Harry is with his kids this weekend. You’re safe.”

“Hmm, in that case, would you like to grab a coffee around the corner?”

Draco considered him for a moment, shocked he was even asking. Blaise had never dared even approach him, since his betrayal.

“Listen, I never got a chance to apologize to you for being a right git. I know nothing could change what I did, but it seems to have worked out for you, in the end. I just need to talk you. It’s important. It won’t take long. Fifteen minutes, tops.”

Draco looked into his pleading sub eyes. The man was so beautiful, it was sometimes hard to look at him. He was wearing fitted grey trousers and a thin blue v-neck sweater that outlined his perfectly fit, lithe body. He was sporting his classic handsome movie star grin as his deep blue eyes twinkled, hopefully. He looked like a star on an Italian soap opera. His wavy black hair sat perfectly in place, unlike Harry’s.

_Harry._

“I’m sorry Blaise. I can’t. I’m on a tight schedule. Scorpius is with his mom. I never get the weekends alone, and I have so much to get through today. Perhaps another time.”

That was believable enough, Draco thought. It was mostly, the truth. Still, Blaise’s face fell, and he quickly turned around and walked out of the shop.

____________________________________________________________________

When Draco got home, he was drained from his long shopping day. He grinned when he thought of his trip down knockturn alley to visit his favorite sex toy shop. He bought Harry a collar, in the event that he would deserve to wear it. It was presumptuous to think he would be game, despite what he was saying, but he couldn’t help getting his hopes up.

As he trekked into his bedroom, he heard a rustling coming from his walk-in closet. His heartbeat picked up in fear. Who could get through the Malfoy wards and get passed his elves? He drew his wand and opened his door, surprised to see Blaise standing there, looking guilty, with his hands behind his back.

“Blaise? What gives?”

“Sorry Drake. I’ll just be going now.”

He was rushing to get passed him, but Draco could tell he was hiding something behind his back. He used his Dom voice to stop him.

“Kneel!”

Blaise instantly fell to his knees and looked at the ground.

“Hand it over.”

Blaise pulled his hands from behind his back to reveal a simple black sleeping shirt. Draco was confused at this. He was expecting him to take something more valuable, like jewelry or one of his absurdly expensive timepieces.

Draco pulled it out of his fingers to check if anything was hidden inside, then threw it back at him.

“What is the meaning of this? You broke into my house to steal a sleeping shirt?”

“I’m sorry. It...it still smells like you.”

His heart clenched painfully. Blaise still loved him, even after all this time. Though he deserved to suffer, it still made him uncomfortable. 

“How did you even get through the wards?”

He had blocked him from flooing or apparating directly into his home.

“I’ve known how to get through your wards since I was thirteen years old.”

Draco vowed to put new wards up. In the meantime, his ex was still kneeling on the ground before him. He did not know what to do with him. His instinct was to punish him, but that usually led to sex. He had no right to punish him, regardless, but he couldn’t just let him go, either.

“This is unacceptable. You are never to come into my house again. What were you thinking? What if Harry was here? Do you think you’d get out of here alive?”

“I’m sorry. You said Harry wasn’t here this weekend, and I miss you. I can’t sleep at night. I haven’t been able to sleep in months. I thought it would help to have something of yours.”

Draco drew in a breath to brace himself against those pleading eyes as they began to fill with tears.

“Blaise, you need to move on. You know we can’t even be friends anymore. You need to find a responsible Dom who will take care of you. You can’t just show up here. I should whip you until you scream for this.”

“There’s no one else for me. Only you. I accept my punishment.” He kept his eyes trained on the ground.

Draco’s cock started swelling at his words. He couldn’t do this. The fact that he was sexually deprived for many weeks didn’t help his judgement. Even if he contained himself enough not to penetrate him, Harry would be livid if he found out. He would definitely leave him.

“Do you think you deserve my punishment? Why? So you could pour it inside a pensive and show Harry?”

“ I need it. Just this once. I won’t tell or show anyone Drake, I promise. I’ll make the unbreakable vow.”

Draco considered him, in his sorry state. He remembered the abuse he suffered at the hands of that vicious Dom and was afraid he would go back to a similar situation. No matter what Blaise had done to him, he didn’t deserve that. He needed this. Draco would deliver his punishment and be on his way. He clutched his arm and apparated both of them to Blaise’s manor, just to be safe. He couldn’t risk Harry walking in on them.

He cast the unbreakable vow with his wand and they both walked to the playroom. It had been so long since he had been in here, even when they were together. Dom/sub play wasn’t a constant in their relationship. He always wanted one in his house, but Astoria’s presence had prevented that. He inhaled deeply, smelling teakwood. It was his favorite scent in the world and triggered memories of that room. He sighed. Blaise touched his shoulder.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” His grin was so charming it made his knees weak. He was too horny for this. He resented that smile and instantly slipped into Dom mode.

“Strip!”

Draco watched the hurried way he disrobed. Blaise was desperate for this. His inner Dom was soothed and delighted. Every inch of his perfect bronzed skin was on display for him in seconds, his cock standing erect and painfully red.

“Assume the position,” he said in his commanding drawl.

Blaise sprinted to the raised padded bench and leaned over it, onto his stomach. It was made of red leather and had matching leather cuffs attached to silver chain at each of its four corners. The chains could be adjusted as needed. Draco made quick work of fastening each cuff to his his wrists and ankles. When he was done, the chains magically tightened so that Blaise couldn’t move. Draco stood behind him, watching his balls hanging heavy over his nice red cock hanging over the edge. His legs were spread wide enough to see his hole.

Draco needed to turn around a moment as the scene reminded him of _Le Donjon._ That was the scene that tipped him over and forced him to leave before he cheated on Harry.He forced himself to think of him now, and eventually regained control. This was for Blaise, alone, not for him. He went over to the drawers to retrieve a medium sized flogger. This wouldn’t hurt him or leave a bruise, but it would sting, smartly. He would feel it for a few days.

Running the leather softly across his bottom, he heard Blaise draw in a breath of anticipation. He let the leather caress his cock. He flinched at the first blow, not knowing when to expect it.

“How many whips do you think you deserve?”

“As many as pleases you.”

Draco’s cock hardened to full mast. Blaise always knew just what to say to get the blood pumping south. He brought the whip down with medium strength five times and Blaise didn’t make a sound though the red marks were prominent. He didn’t even flinch.

“Oh, such a good boy. You always take my punishment so good. Do you want it harder?”

“Yes, please.”

Draco increased his strength and the next set of whippings caused Blaise’s cock to leak pre-cum on the floor as he moaned through them. 

“Your ass is so beautiful in that crimson shade.”

Draco couldn’t help stroking it a few times. Blaise drew in a breath at his first touch.

“It’s so deliciously warm. Tell me, what do you want?”

“Please…fill me…I need you inside me.”

Draco drew back and brought the whip down with maximum strength. Blaise let out a quiet shriek.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible. You don’t deserve my cock.”

He continued to whip him hard, but he could tell Blaise was enjoying it through the sounds ofhis screams, a mixture of pleasure and pain. By the twentieth stroke, Blaise was shooting his cum all over the floor, with only the pressure of the padded bench beneath him and the whip wielded by Draco’s hand.

Draco put the whip away and tried to push down his cock which was tenting his trousers. A dark spot had formed, but he was wearing black so it was not noticeable. He came back and stroked his ass again.

“Such a good boy.”

He knew Blaise’s favorite thing to hear was that he was a good boy.

“Thank you, sir.” his adoring voice was close to tears.

Draco conjured cooling gel with his wand and rubbed it all over his ass to soothe him. He undid the cuffs at his ankles first. He went around to undo his wrists, but looked at his adoring blue eyes first.

“This can never happen again. You have to find a responsible Dom and keep away from me.Do you understand?”

Blaise nodded sadly and the tears spilled over. Draco’s heart was breaking, and he didn’t know why. It was instinct to take care of his sub, but he resisted. Blaise was not his anymore. He quickly undid his wrist cuffs and stood to leave the room. As he walked out, he glanced at the side chair which held Blaise’s clothes as well as his black sleeping shirt. He should have taken it, for Blaise’s sake, but he left it behind and apparated back to Malfoy Manor, with a crack.

_________________________________________________________________

Draco had tossed himself off raw to visions of his night with Blaise all through the weekend. No matter how many times he made himself cum, he still felt no relief. He regretted going there for now he was haunted by the memory, but congratulated himself for holding back. He had never been so tempted in his entire life. When Monday came, Draco was relieved to have work to focus on, again. As he walked down for lunch, Harry was acting like a right prat, flirting with everyone in the office.

While in the atrium, he was shocked to run into Blaise again, who gave him that pleading look, but he quickly sidestepped him and turned right back around, to go back up the lifts. He had suddenly lost his appetite.

When he got back to the floor of the DMLE, he heard Harry’s laughter emanating through his half-open office door, along with a softer male voice. He burst through the head auror office, without knocking to announce his presence.

Harry was having a private lunch with the handsome junior Auror Smith. The junior auror looked extremely nervous to see Draco standing there. He knew he was giving off waves of his Dominant power. He looked menacing.

“Draco, come have lunch with us,” Harry said jovially.

Blaise had made him forget all about lunch. His appetite had vanished.

“Already ate.”

They glared at each other. Harry knew how much Draco hated this junior auror who was ten years his junior and always touching Harry, any chance he got. He hung on Harry’s every word and it irked him, to no end. The junior auror sensed the tension in the room and quickly excused himself, shutting the door behind him.

“What are you playing at, Potter?”

Harry just smiled with his handsome grin.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Draco. It was just lunch.”

Draco narrowed his eyes.

“You know how much I hate that guy being around you. You’ve been acting up, for weeks. I’m sick and tired of this nonsense.”

Harry’s behavior had significantly changed since he had made his request. He constantly flirted with everyone in the office, man or woman, making sure Draco would see. On the nights he slept over, he would leave his dirty socks and underwear littered all over Draco’s bedroom, knowing how much he hated untidiness. Then, there was the lack of sex. Harry knew it was against the rules for him to hold his cock back, for ransom. They had promised each other to never take their problems to the bedroom.

“Yea? What are you gonna do about it?”

Harry raised his eyebrows. He was very lucky Draco was not his Dom because he would have instantly bent him over his desk and spanked him hard enough for all his subordinates to hear.

He was smart enough to know why Harry was doing this. He wanted to force his hand. He was close to being successful. The Dom inside him surged and bristled at his lover’s insubordination. The fact remained, however, that though he said he wanted Draco’s dominant side, he didn’t really know what was in store for him, and he was asking for the wrong reasons.

Draco thought if he held off, he would quit the act soon enough, and they would go back to normal. His hand itched to smack the smirk right off his face, but then he would risk Harry walking out on him, forever.

Instead, he fumed and walked out of the door, slamming it shut behind him.

___________________________________________________________________

That night, it was planned that Harry would be sleeping over at Malfoy Manor as he’d been away from him all weekend. They had a very quiet dinner and went upstairs for bed.

As was his custom, Harry emerged from the bathroom, completely naked and fresh from a shower. The man no longer believed in wrapping a towel around himself. He paused at the bathroom door with the steam billowing around his perfect body, muscles bulging, green eyes sparkling, his dark wavy hair gleaming wet. Draco saw him out of his periphery, but pretended to ignore him.

Harry would always do this to tease him, and then deny him sex when propositioned.

There would be no such proposition tonight. Draco was still livid, from earlier. He was being pushed to his breaking point and could get no release. Harry must have sensed this, for he was treading carefully around him, all evening.

Harry crawled into bed, completely naked, and Draco stayed turned away. at the very edge, gripping the comforter around him, viciously. He was breathing hard from the rage that swelledinside him. He almost wished Harry would just end things and put him out of this misery.

He was surprised to feel a hand caress his thigh for the first time in weeks, then dip forward to caress his cock, which was, unbeknownst to Draco, completely erect. He may have pretended not to see him standing naked and proud, but his body had betrayed him. Draco smacked his hand away.

After weeks of denying him sex, Draco was even more livid that he chose this moment to engage, after that stunt with junior Auror Smith. He was not Harry’s sub. It was not up to him to deny him for all this time, then suddenly decide to fuck him again.

Harry sighed, but he wasn’t giving up that easily. He tried again, and Draco grabbed his wrist hard enough to bruise and shucked it away hatefully. Harry threw the covers off him to expose Draco’s perfect nude body. He spooned behind him and began laying ravenous kisses on his back and neck, groping him everywhere. Draco pushed him off brutally and turned around. He held Harry back at a distance with his outstretched arms to protect himself from the onslaught, but he was unperturbed. He merely smacked his arms out of the way and gripped Draco around his waist to pull him close and kiss him. There was a struggle. They rolled around on the bed, naked, their erect cocks brushing each other.

“Please. I miss you. I need you.”

“Fuck you, Potter! Stop this, right now.”

“No.”

Suddenly, Harry used his strength over him, to flatten Draco on his back and straddle him. He stroked his cock a few times and Draco realized he was lubing him up. Before he had a chance to think, Harry gripped the base of Draco’s cock and impaled himself on it fully, letting out a guttural moan.

His brain exploded with desire. He gasped in the shock of pleasure that surged through his body. He had not felt the tight clench of Harry’s hole in months. Harry must have cast preparation charms on himself in the bathroom because his passage was slick.He almost came, instantly, but gritted his teeth against it, as Harry moved over him.

As he looked up at Harry, his face twisted in pure pleasure, controlling the pace from above, he became even more convinced that he could never be a sub. Draco never permitted his sub to top from the bottom, not in life, and certainly, not in the bedroom. His Dom inside ached to punish him, but he held it back.

He merely flipped him over onto his back, and drilled into him from above, holding one leg open. Harry stared into his eyes with permeating power, and he could hardly stand it. He abruptly flipped him over, forcing him up on all fours, and began ramming him from behind. Their thighs smacked loudly together as he increased his pressure and pace. He leaned over to grab him by his hair, forcing his head back, as he delivered brutal deep thrusts.

“Is this what you want Potter?”

“Yes, sir.”

Draco reared his head back in alarm, though his cock seemed to harden more, having never been addressed this way, by him. Harry must think this was more than just rough sex. He would have to talk to him later, but right now, there were more pressing concerns, like making him scream.

He released his hair and changed his angle to start hammering into him where he knew his prostate to be. Harry did scream, and came all over the covers below with a loud shout. His trembling inner muscles pulled Draco over the edge with him. He roughly flattened him to the bed to lie atop him, wrapping one arm around his neck, and thrust as deep inside as he could possibly go, stilling, as his orgasm tore through him. Harry groaned at Draco’s deeper angleand he felt hot cum flood the inside of his hole.

Draco fell limp and boneless on top of him. He was in a post orgasmic haze for a few minutes, but then realized that he was suppose to be angry. He detached himself from Harry abruptly, hearing a wince when his cock popped out of his tight hole. He looked at his perfect, pert. round ass, as cum began to dribble out.

He couldn’t resist delivering a harsh slap to one of his cheeks.

“Ow!”

Draco smiled at his hand print, already forming.

“Yea? Hurts, doesn’t it?”

“What was that for? I thought you’re suppose to do that before sex, not after.”

“For being an utter prat! You don’t get to deny me sex for weeks then suddenly decide that it’s time. You say you want to submit, but you’re treating me like I’m the submissive one. What the bloody hell is the matter with you? Stop means stop.”

Draco got off the bed quickly, intending to head to the bathroom to clean himself off, but he was stopped by Harry kneeling in front of him.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Draco. You’re the one that’s suppose to decide. I only just realized I’ve been going about this all wrong. I’m ready to submit to you. Please, I want to.”

“And why is that, Potter? If this is over your stupid jealousy with Blaise, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

Harry blushed and Draco knew instantly, he was right. This was about bloody Blaise. He was almost disappointed to have it confirmed. He was even more angry now, as he was just starting to warm up to the idea.

Draco moved to get passed him, but Harry held him back.

“No. At first, it may have been, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realize that the thought of you being dominant over me is a huge turn on. I know I don’t have the experience and I’m fucking it up, but you can teach me. Please, Draco. You have no idea how much I want to please you.”

Draco stared at the kneeling figure, considering. He wanted to please him, he said. Could it be possible that Draco could shape him into the perfect submissive? The result would be having the savior of the Wizarding World, himself, on his knees, with a snap of his fingers. He cock began to harden again, just thinking about it.

Yet, there was a 50/50 chance that it would push his wholesome Harry away forever. Draco might do it wrong because he didn’t have experience with love in a Dom/sub relationship. He also couldn’t see Harry being willingly collared and leashed in a public place. He could barely handle a single spank. He could just keep being the top, for a while. Harry would forget all about it. He pulled him up onto his feet and kissed him, before answering.

“How was I tonight? Did you enjoy being filled up?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s been so long. I missed it. I love it when you fuck me.”

“Good.” He gave him a quick peck and smacked his bum, playfully. Harry startled and smiled, as Draco moved passed him to get to the bathroom.

“So, does this mean I’m your good boy, now?”

Draco turned to him, sighing.

“I’ll think about it, Harry. Just give me some time.”

Harry solemnly nodded, looking at the floor.

_______________________________________________________________________


	3. The First Blow

The next morning, Draco stood still in the shower, contemplating Harry’s request for the umpteenth time. He could no longer deny the appeal of it. Just thinking about his massive body chained and bent over made all his blood rush to his cock. Harry was tough as nails, far tougher than Blaise, and had a high tolerance for pain. The pleasure to be gained from breaking him was not easy to ignore.

He remembered that subs in the BDSM world were often men who wielded enormous power in their day-to-day lives and sought ways to give up that control.Amongst the muggles, it wasn’t uncommon for a sub to be a politician or a company head. Draco had once played out a scene with a muggle who told him he was the chief of police, the muggle equivalent of Harry’s job, and that had been a particularly memorable experience. The man was a perfect submissive, falling to his knees before Draco had to ask.

Yet, the man had been well-trained. Training takes enormous effort on the part of the Dom, and he was sure that Harry would require far more effort than the average man. Training usually begins at the beginning of the relationship, before the tone is set. Blaise took months to learn and he was naturally suited to the job. He always listened to Draco’s commands outside the bedroom, from the start. He respected and revered him, from the very beginning of their friendship. The Dom/sub tone was always there.

Harry was a different matter entirely. Their ‘relationship’ as it were, began as a mutual hatred and disregard for the other’s well-being. As children, Harry disrespected him at every turn. Even now, he often displayed a lack of respect when he was angry. He would have to learn to control his emotions, something that he, himself, admitted to be a near impossibility. It is what prevented him from being a skilled occlumens, even as an adult.He remembered the way he slammed the office door of The Minister of Magic in a bout of rage, then demand he be fired. He shook his head, thinking there’s simply no way he could be a sub, with that attitude.

He remembered how Harry pursued him relentlessly, not accepting no for an answer. How he grabbed Draco’s arms hard enough to bruise in the men’s locker room and kissed him, without permission, for the first time. This is the man who thought he wanted to be a sub? Draco shook his head again, smirking at Harry’s obvious lack of insight.

The shower door opened and Harry entered behind him.

“May I touch you?”

He was shocked to hear such a request. Perhaps, he could offer an attitude adjustment, after all. He would put him to the test.

“You may, but you’re not allowed to touch my cock.”

Harry stroked his shoulders first, significantly broader these days. He stroked down his newly muscled back and sighed. Draco had managed to put on fifteen pounds of weight, in muscle, in these last six months, under Harry’s guidance at the gym. He was still trim, but he was almost as broad in the shoulders as his partner. Yet, Harry was still significantly stronger. Draco suspected he would always be the stronger one.

“You do have the most lovely body. How’d I get so lucky?”

“I thought you would prefer the more twinky version of my body.”

“I prefer all versions of your body.”

Draco smiled and blushed, thankful that Harry couldn’t see. He loved saying things that made his pale cheeks flush with heat.

Harry stroked down to his ass, grabbing both globes in his calloused hands, groaning. Draco could feel his stiff erection pressed against his thigh, and heard him panting behind him.

It appeared Harry couldn’t help himself. His hand began to creep around his thigh to the front. Draco couldn’t help but feel disappointed, for the first time in his life, at the feeling of Harry’s calloused fingers wrapping around his thick cock.

He moved at the speed only an auror could, as he gripped Harry’s wrist away and slammed him against the shower wall, face first. He twisted and pressed Harry’s arm to his lower back, fully aware he could break his bones if he put pressure In the right spot. He used his other arm to press into Harry’s neck, so that his cheek was pressed against the wall.

“What gives, Potter? You say you’re ready to submit, but you can’t even follow a simple instruction.”

“I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a bad boy. Bad boys get punished.”

Draco’s heart sank to his stomach. He was parroting, word for word, the conversation with Blaise that fateful night at the Wizarding Country Club. Draco arrived late to pull him out and did not know that this part must have been in the pensive memory too. His eyes prickled when he realized that Harry must have been studying it, to learn how to please him. Harry was torturing himself with this. Draco let up the pressure and began kissing his shoulder tenderly, hoping that Harry could feel how much he loved him. Harry shucked his shoulder back.

“Punish me!” Harry’s tone was desperate, on the verge of tears.

Draco released him quickly and turned him around to cup his face and kiss him. Harry tried to push him off and move his face away. There was a struggle, but Draco managed to get a resistant kiss in. Harry’s face felt hot with tears, and he felt himself breaking apart. How could he have let his Harry become this sad and insecure?

“Harry, don’t. Please, don't cry. I love you.”

“If you loved me, you’d give me what I want,” he demanded, tears streaming down his face.

He pushed Draco away roughly and turned back to face the wall. He thrust his arm back into the position Draco was holding it, a moment before.

This went against all the rules. Though it was true sometimes a sub would act out purposely to receive punishment, they certainly never ‘demanded’ punishment. Draco had little patience for that. This was another example of topping from the bottom. Harry was forcing Draco, which took the fun right out of it. He was trying to control him.

Still, the tears weakened him, as they always did. There was a new desperation in him that honestly, scared the hell out of him. He would play along and make him think they were in a scene, for his sake.

He gripped his wrist tightly, pressing him into the wall and stroked his ass.

“You’ll have five spankings for being a bad boy.”

“Yes…yes, please.”

Draco smacked his ass with medium strength, the first two strokes. He didn’t want to hurt him.

“Is that all you got, _Sir?”_ Harry spat out the ‘sir’ with venom, mocking him.

_Disrespectful wretch._ Draco’s body flushed with anger. The scene was too reminiscent of true play. How dare a sub speak to him this way? He tightened his hold and twisted his arm, nearly to the point of breaking. Harry let out a panicked shriek.

“You need to learn respect, Potter. It’s the paddle for you now. As many strokes as pleases me. You won’t be able to sit down today. Is that what you want?”

Harry looked worried, finally, and Draco’s inner Dom was pleased. Harry nodded against the wall. Draco quickly reached up and smacked his exposed face, hard, earning a surprised gasp.

“Good boys use their words.”

Harry looked angry now, defiant. Draco waited for him to use his advantage of strength and throw him off, but he never did. 

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Harry huffed and spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes, Sir.” 

Unacceptable tone. Draco reached down and smacked his ass with full strength, three successive quick blows. The slaps echoed loudly against the shower walls. He had promised five spankings, after all. A good Dom never forgets his promises.

“Ah!”

“You will never speak to me in that disrespectful tone, again. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir.”

His tone was more mild now, quieter. 

“Good boy. That’s better. The paddle hurts more. Are you ready for it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Draco’s cock was oozing all over the floor. _Gods,_ he forgot how much this truly pleased him. Harry was submitting to him and he’d never been more turned on in his entire life. He thought this would be more difficult to do to someone he loved, someone like Harry, but he was wrong.He had to control his desire, however, for now. He reached for his big, square wooden hair-brush. It wasn’t as big as he would like, but it would do the job. The conjured one would hurt too much. They had to start small.

Draco brought it down brutally on Harry’s ass, which was already reddened beautifully.Harry gasped in shocked pain. He finished quickly, only delivering four hard blows, the shape of his hairbrush imprinted in four distinct red places. As Draco set the brush down, he peeked around at Harry’s cock and was shocked to see it standing painfully erect. It took Blaise months of acclimating to stay hard during his punishments.

It was time for his reward. He stroked his ass lovingly and petted his hair.

“My sweet boy. You did so good. Tell me, what should your reward be?”

“Please, fuck me...Fill me up.”

Draco could have came at his breathy answer alone. Harry knew how much it turned him on to hear the sound of begging.

He cast the preparation charms and breached his entrance in one smooth stroke. Draco squeezed his eyes shut at the blissful tight heat. Harry hadn’t been fucked in months and his hole was gripping him in a tight velvet fist. He started thrusting quickly. This was no time for a gentle fuck. He could sense this is what Harry needed as he heard his moans of ecstasy. A few long minutes went by and Draco’s orgasm was swelling up inside him. It was too soon, but it could not be helped.

“Touch yourself, baby. Cum for me.”

With only a single stroke of his hand, Harry shot jets of thick cum against the shower wall. Draco came at the same time, with a loud shout. He could not remember the last time he orgasmed so hard. He hugged Harry’s back leaning his cheek against it, trying to catch his breath.

After a few moments, Draco kissed his back, lovingly. Harry had given him an indescribablegift of his tender love. He hardly felt worthy. They were both silent as they washed each other off and stepped out of the shower. As they dressed, Harry was looking distinctly smug.

“Did that please you, sir?”

Draco let out a barking laugh and Harry’s eyes lit up at the sound. It was rarely heard. Draco’s natural disposition was usually gloomy and brooding.

“You don’t have to refer to me as ‘sir’ when we’re out of a scene, baby. It’s just us, back to normal, now.”

He drew Harry closer, clutching him around his neck and nibbled his lip, lustfully.

“And yes. That pleased me very much, more than you can imagine. You’re so fucking sexy submitting to me, Harry. I already feel addicted. Did you like it?”

Harry displayed a goofy grin.

"I…I did like it. More than I thought I would.”

Draco smiled widely.

“We have to discuss terms and a contract. You’ll need to be trained, of course.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, confused.

“Contract? What do you mean trained? Like a dog?”

Draco couldn't help teasing him.

“Exactly like a dog,” he wiggled his eyebrows and smirked.

“I’m no bitch, Draco. You can forget that part of it,” he replied angrily. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________


	4. Lesson One

_“I’m no bitch, Draco. You can forget that part of it,” he replied angrily._

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Draco’s whole face fell. His insides constricted. He felt crushed under the weight of his broken hope. The minute he shot his load inside Harry, a whole new world of sprawling possibilities sprang into being. He instantly imagined a new life with Harry as his submissive in vivid detail. A complete life. Finally.

He should have known it would be too good to be true. He was reaching. Too high.

Harry must have noticed the disappointment etched in his face, though he tried his best to cover it behind his usual mask of indifference. He didn’t want him to know how much he was wounded by this.

“I never saw Blaise follow you around like a dog.”

When they were in scene, Blaise did indeed, follow him around like a dog, if it was his pleasure. Draco had taught him to heel using nipple clamps that were attached to a singular chain he held around his hand. Blaise was forced to walk close behind him, or risk the clamps pulling painfully. It was a very difficult thing to do, as any misstep would cause them to pull, and he was punished if he ran into Draco, who would test him by coming to a complete stop or changing direction without warning. It was an exercise of discipline, in bringing him out of his mind, deep into sub-space. If he focused too hard on his task, he would fail. Thinking too much on his pace or Draco’s direction is what caused him to falter. Draco’s goal was to free him and make him submit to him entirely, trusting Draco, knowing his master. It took time, but eventually Blaise came to heel without a single mistake.

Draco just looked to the ground, remember that time in his life with a fond sadness.

“And what contract? Did you have a contract with Blaise?”

Draco paled, cursing himself for being stupid enough to bring up the subject of contracts. A long forgotten memory suddenly surfaced in his mind. He did have a contract with Blaise, signed by both of them after flying high from their first in-depth month of Dom/sub play.

“Don’t worry about the contract. Forget it.”

Draco turned around quickly, but it was too late. Harry saw his face.

“You did, didn’t you? Hold on, I remember reading about those when I was looking up all this twisted sex stuff at a muggle library, thanks to you. That’s how I knew to call you ‘sir’. Those contracts have a time limit. How long was yours with Blaise?”

_Fuck._ The only question he hoped he wouldn’t ask. He always underestimated Harry’s intelligence, to his own detriment. He had forgotten completely about that bloody contract. How could he tell him the truth? He couldn’t. He could lie, but Harry would find out. 

“Tell me, Draco.”

Draco thrust his hands in his pockets and whispered something Harry could not hear.

“I didn’t catch that.”

Harry’s voice was tinted with timber.

“For life.”

At the sound of Draco’s small voice, Harry’s eyes widened to saucers. He was shocked mute.

“It doesn’t mean anything. I’d forgotten completely, and Blaise never mentions it. It was signed rashly, right out of Hogwarts. We were just kids, fresh to the scene, living together at the time. It was a brutal time in my life, Harry. I felt weak and powerless. Shameful. The Malfoy family was disgraced. I thought it would anchor me. It was a stupid thing to do. I’m sorry.”

Harry sat down.

“Then break it. Break it now.”

Draco looked to the ground again.

“Draco, look at me! I’m your partner now. I’ll sign a new contract. Just break it. It’s just a piece of paper right?”

Draco broke into a sweat. It suddenly made sense to him why Blaise never dared mention it.

“It’s a magically binding contract.”

"Are you saying it can’t be broken!?”

“It can be broken…only by the submissive.”

Silence.

“You’re telling me that all this time we’ve been together, Blaise has some magically binding contract that says you’re still his?”

Draco’s cheeks flushed.

“Technically, he’s still mine. My responsibility. But again, it doesn’t mean anything. He hasn’t even brought it up. It was signed over ten years ago. I’m sure he’s forgotten all about it. It’s nothing to stress over.”

Harry, who’d been pacing frantically, paused and looked at him like he’d spouted three heads.

“Doesn’t…doesn’t mean anything? Oh yeah, I’m sure Blaise has no memory of your fucked up contract that ties him to you for bloody life! Of course, he never mentions it. He knows you’d force him to break it. Do it now. Today. You know what, don’t. I’ll do it. I’ll see him at work today and make him bleed until he agrees.”

Harry flexed and cracked his knuckles menacingly, one hand twitching on his wand. Draco would have been touched by his fierce possessiveness if he wasn’t struck with the horror of the sinking truth.

“…It can’t be broken if the sub is coerced. Not by me, you, or anyone. It has to come from Blaise alone, because it’s magically binding. It has to be his true decision. The contract will sense it in his magic if he is resistant to it. It won’t hold, even if he says the spell.”

Draco bent his head low as Harry resumed his pacing, working himself up into a rage.

“Listen Harry, I love you. Nothing is going to change that. Who cares about this stupid BDSM stuff? I never wanted to do this with you. I’m fine without it, and you just said you’re not into it anyway. I’m perfectly happy with that. Always have been. You’re the man in my life now, the only man. You’re the one I love.”

“Who says I’m not into it? All because I don’t want to be trained like a dog?”

Draco was starting to get frustrated. His system flooded with adrenaline. His tone was clipped. 

“There’s so much more to being a submissive than receiving a few spankings in the shower and rough sex. It requires months of training, lessons in discipline and punishment. You’re not going to like it. The contract doesn’t come into play until the very end. Just forget about it, alright? We can still play together without making it official.”

“Don’t tell me what I’ll like! No, I don’t accept that. If I have to be trained, then so be it. If I could bring down bloody Voldemort, I’m pretty sure I can withstand a few months of your ‘training.’ I’m not afraid of you Draco.”

_That’s the problem._ He should be afraid of him, afraid to displease him, anyway. But Draco didn’t want him to be afraid. He just wanted to let live and love with Harry. He was starting to get angry at Harry’s insistence. He seemed hell bent on this.

“Just stop this madness! Since when am I not enough for you? Since when are we not enough together? I chose you! It wasn’t even a choice for me. Don’t you understand that? We’ve gone through hell together and just came out the other side. We’ve both been perfectly content for six months. Why are you ruining this? Is this going to break us?”

Draco was shouting and his voice broke at the end as his eyes filled with tears. It felt like the beginning of their destruction. He was suddenly ripping apart at the seams. He was trying to draw breath but nothing came. The air in his lungs felt frozen. Harry rushed forward and held him around his middle, rubbing his back soothingly.

“It’s okay baby, I’m right here. Take a deep breath…That’s good. Nothing can break us. I’ll love you forever. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Draco was trembling in his arms. They had fallen to the floor together. He rubbed his eyes furiously and his voice cracked. He cursed the fact that before Harry, he practically never cried, not even when his parents died. 

“I can’t lose you Harry…please. I won’t make it without you.”

“You’ll never lose me, my dragon. You’re mine and I’m yours. You’ll never have to live without me.I just…I need you to find a way to get rid of that contract. Can you do that for me, baby?”

Draco nodded into his shoulder, soaked through with tears. 

“Perfect. Lie back. Let _the chosen one_ take care of you.”

Harry smirked at his joke, playing upon Draco’s earlier words. Quickly undoing his trousers, he took his cock into his mouth. He blew him like his life depended on it. The tears only stopped as Draco grabbed his hair and shot his load into his hot heat. Even then, a few still managed to escape. He wiped his face quickly so Harry wouldn’t see.

_________________________________________________________________________

Draco sat at his desk with his his fingers over his eyes all morning and a lightening clap headache. The shades were down, plunging his office into complete darkness, but it only marginally helped. All that crying in the morning must have set off a migraine, something Draco hadn’t experienced since the war. He was cursing himself for bringing up contracts. He got so overexcited at the prospect of Harry being his submissive, that he’d forgotten to keep a calm facade and his mouth shut.

He thought of ways to get Blaise to want to break the contract. He remembered his words when he caught him in his closet and insisted he find a responsible dominant.

_There’s no one else for me. Only you._

Draco thought he was being facetious at the time, overdramatic. Blaise did remember the contract and remembered it well. Literally, there could be no one else for him. A Dom may have more than one submissive, but a sub could only have one Dominant. He could play with others but could never have something real.

It suddenly occurred to him that perhaps this contract was the reason Blaise crept up into his fantasies and dreams constantly. He imagined his love for Harry in the beginning eclipsed everything, but when Harry pulled away from him, it left him open. He vaguely remembered some clause in the magic portion of the contract. The Dom would be alerted if his sub was truly suffering, emotionally, from neglect or otherwise. It would certainly explain his pity for the man after his unforgivable betrayal.

It rankled to know that the Doms were the true slaves. Tirelessly working to insure the happiness of their sub. Always the ones who had to maintain complete composure, often ignoring their own desires for the sake of punishment or discipline. It was too much on Draco sometimes, which is why it wasn’t full time. They went through oscillating phases of regular sex and play.

He could approach Blaise and discuss it with him calmly. He could try to convince him to want to break it because he was never going to come back, now that he was with Harry. By not being around, he was no longer fulfilling his contractual obligations, and he should break it so that he could find someone able to give him what he needed. Someone better than him, even. Yet, Blaise would never let him go simply because he was in a relationship. He probably thought it a temporary reprieve.

He knew instinctively that this wouldn’t be enough. He didn’t blame him. He was a good Dom, probably amongst the best, and Blaise always put him on a pedestal for that. He felt pride, and it sickened him. Draco worked tirelessly, over many years to be the perfect Dom for him. Carefully discovering his limits together. Pushing him to the very edge. Freeing him. He never hurt him. Never breaking skin because he wasn’t that kind of Dom. His pleasure was the only thing at the forefront of Draco’s mind when they were in a scene. He knew all of Blaise’s favorite things. Degradation, rope play, spankings, the kangaroo flogger, his deepest fantasies.

They were at the Wizarding Country Club one night when Blaise had too much to drink and admitted, bashfully, that he had a creepy thing for Professor Snape in 7th year. He imagined being called in for a paddling and a fuck, as punishment for being a naughty schoolboy. For his 25th birthday, it took him all day, but Draco managed to transfigure his playroom into an exact replica of the Hogwarts headmaster office, rummaging up Blaise’s old Slytherin uniform for him to wear. He charmed his hair black, lengthening it to his chin, donning Snape’s all black, bat-like robes, and they played it out. Draco had completely surprised him with that, bringing him to orgasm five times that night. He gushed about it for months afterwards as “the best birthday present ever.” He remembered Blaise’s perfect act as the doe-eyed, fearful schoolboy, and it made him hard under his desk. _Fuck, not at work. Please._ He gripped his cock base and squeezed hard. When that didn’t do the trick, he twisted his balls, painfully. It seemed to relent.

He remembered it all, with a pang of regret. It got Draco off to make him fall apart under his hand. It made him feel powerful, in control, like nothing else ever could. After fifteen years of play, he knew exactly which buttons to push and how. He could make Blaise cum just by his words alone. He had made it too good for him to give up his claim.

The only other solution he could think of was actively being a terrible Dom.

That meant hurting him. Truly hurting him, enough to scar.

That meant putting him in a cage, and then leaving the room, with no promise of ever returning. A huge faux-pas and common mistake among Doms. The sub must always know his Dom is nearby so they feel safe.

That meant depriving him of all his senses, putting in ear plugs, a blind fold, a gag, chaining him in manacles, intermittently whipping him to cut his skin, and leaving him there until dawn.

That meant…ignoring his safe word.

____________________________________________________________________________

Harry was going mad by lunch time. _Fucking Zabini. Always in the way._ He pulled at his hair fretfully, hoping Draco would find a way out of this contract, soon. He got heat flashes just thinking that he had any sort of claim on Draco. He would break every bone in his body if he dared touch his dragon. Draco was his and his alone. He didn’t know when this fierce possessiveness over Draco began, but he knew it wasn’t normal. He sensed it from the very beginning of their relationship, since their time in Turkey. It had only worsened with thewerewolf attack after Harry had first made love to him. He checked the lunar chart and realized the full moon was approaching. All his senses and emotions would be heightened these next few days. He would have to remember to take his potion tonight.

He felt crazed, like a loose electrical wire sparking after a hurricane. He kept coming back to the same solution. It was obvious. He would kill Blaise and make it look like an accident. He worked at the DoM. People go missing in The Department of Mysteries all the time. They were known for it. He’d get away with it. He wasn’t _The Chosen One_ , for nothing. He never used that card to get out of trouble, but for Blaise, he’d happily make an exception.

 _No. Get a grip Harry. That’s the werewolf poison talking._ As long as he took his altered wolfsbane potion, these crazed emotions would simmer. He’d see clearly again.

Needing to pull it together, he decided to go home to Grimmauld Place for lunch, lay down a bit. He hardly slept a wink since Blaise’s cruel words to him in the atrium. In case he was late coming back, he’d have to tell Draco first, so he could fill in for him.

As he strolled to his office, he thought about how obsessed he was with getting Draco to reveal himself to him fully. To treat him like he would treat Blaise. In his time apart from Draco, he spent hours pouring over books at the muggle library on submission. “How to be a Good Submissive 101” lay on his nightstand at Grimmauld. It was difficult to navigate. Took days just going over the different tools these sick bastards used. The problem was that it was for someone already in a D/s relationship. It didn’t say anything about how to convince a dominant to take you in hand. During his other time at Grimmauld, he revisited the pensive memory…

He knocked on Draco’s door and entered. It was plunged in total darkness and he immediately went into a panic, wandlessly lifting the shades.

“Ah, Harry. The light. It hurts.”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Migraine. Can you close the shades, please.” 

Harry obliged, closing the door behind him, and rushed over behind Draco’s desk.

“I didn’t know you get migraines.”

“Haven’t. Since the war.”

At Draco’s small broken voice, Harry felt crushed by a wave of guilt. He was doing this to him. He was hurting him with his crazed jealousy. Pushing him to the edge.

He wandlessly conjured a comfortable padded sofa.

“Come on, babe. Let me get you to the sofa. You need to lie down. You’ll feel better.”

Draco didn’t argue. Talking made it worse. He knew he didn’t have a sofa and didn’t hear Harry utter a single word, but figured he conjured one out of thin air, wandlessly and nonverbally. The man’s power was unlimited.

He lay down with his eyes closed and suddenly felt a cooling gel pad on his forehead. He felt warm fingers stroking his inner wrist. He cracked open a bloodshot eye tolook at Harry, his handsome face grave with concern, and smiled.

“Why are you so good to me, huh?”

Harry let out a soft snort.

“High praise considering I’m the reason you’re like this.”

Draco gripped his hand and held it close, but it wasn’t enough. He made Harry got on the sofa with him and hold him. He groaned in relaxed pleasure. Harry kissed his jaw.

“You’re so warm baby. Is this full moon coming?”

“Yea…I wanted to go home for a bit, for lunch and to grab the potion. Not feeling like myself. Sorry about this morning. I wanted to see if you could take over in case I got late coming back, but I’ll just wait till end-of-day. Do you need a potion for the headache?”

“No. Go. You feel feverish. Too hot. Always. I’ll be alright in about fifteen minutes. I can take over.”

“You won’t need to. Just going to pop in to take the potion, grab a snack, and come back. You’ll be okay?”

Draco nodded.

Harry could tell his heat and conversation were straining him more. He left the office quickly, closing it softly behind him.

To reach the floo, he quickly took the lifts down to the atrium. Blaise was talking merrily to some coworkers by the coffee cart. He looked different somehow, rejuvenated. Harry always took sick satisfaction in seeing Blaise moping around the ministry and he resented him looking happy now. He knew how heartbroken he was. Felt it, keenly. Just imagining himself in Blaise’s position made him break out into a sweat of panic. He heart would beat wildly out of his chest. He could already see it happening to him. As he wondered what could have brought on this new jolly continence, Blaise gave him a secret smile and winked. An inferno exploded in his chest. He wanted to knock his teeth out. Too many witnesses. Instead, he wandlessly and nonverbally cast a stinging hex his way. Blaise jolted enough to spill his coffee on his coworker.

He knew he was petty, but he couldn’t help it. Little joys. Figured he was a saint for not hitting him with _avada kedavara_ instead. 

______________________________________________________

Finally arriving home, Harry went straight into his office to conduct his daily ritual of jerking off in the pensive memory. It started after his conversation with Blaise in the atrium, a few weeks back. He knew it was sick, but it always made him feel better.

The first time he saw the memory, his only focus was Draco and the sheer rapture on his face. Treating Blaise quite literally like his _cum slut._ It did horrify him. The man he loved looked like a complete stranger. A face he had never seen. Lost to pleasure in someone else’s body. Not his. Never Harry’s. Not like this.

Afterwards, he began focusing on Blaise, instead, imagining it was he that Draco was degrading. He imagined it was him on his knees, tied up, being throat fucked. He wanted Draco to call him his property, his bitch boy, his eager hole. He wanted to feel the air struggle to enter his lungs as Draco fucked him and choked him at the same time. He wanted to be blindfolded and forced to eat his ass while feeling the harsh sting of a slap across his face. His orgasm swelled up. Pointing at Blaise, he shot his load all over his face. As usual, none of it stuck, but it was satisfying anyway.

He returned to the ministry an hour late, despite not being able to grab a lunch or his potion. He’d made a mess of himself and had to shower and change his boxers. He was spending too much time in that pensive, knowing he needed to stop, but he couldn’t. It became his obsession to possess this version of Draco.

One of the best ways to bring Dom Draco to the surface was to ignite his jealousy, as Blaise had done. He flirted shamelessly with everyone in the office, some men, but mostly women, knowing Draco secretly feared that he still craved women.

As Draco watched him make his rounds with a sneer, Harry leaned close to the new assistant and whispered in her ear for his coffee. She blushed and walked off. Knowing he was being watched, he made sure to stare at her ass in a short plaid skirt, as she walked away. Nothing. Not a tingle of arousal. Not even a halfie, but he adjusted his trousers anyway, for Draco’s benefit.

He was met with livid storm grey eyes when he turned around. Though he smiled internally, he gave him a wide eyed surprised look, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Draco ignored him the rest of the day, but that was okay. He was to spend the night at Malfoy Manor.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Dinner was strained. Harry was jittery in his chair. He wanted so badly to ask about his progress with the contract. He wanted to know if his training was to begin. Was he going to be punished today for looking up that woman’s skirt? He wanted to know when he’d be upgraded to _filthy whore._

Draco’s bones felt like mush. Migraines always left him wasted. Harry’s uneasiness invaded his zen, driving him barking mad. He was fidgeting more than his eight year old son Scorpius. He didn’t have the energy to chastise Harry for his disgraceful behavior today. Finally, he lay a hand on his.

“Harry. You okay?”

Far from it.

“I’m fine, Draco. How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling a little off. Migraines sap all my energy.”

_Fuck._ That meant they couldn’t play tonight. That meant no training. No punishment. Staring at his plate morosely, he let out a heavy sigh of disappointment.

Draco’s eyes prickled at the sound, not able to imagine what brought it on. His man was slipping further away, and he felt helpless to stop it. He squeezed Harry’s fingers to bring his sad eyes up from the table.

“Harry…are you happy with me?”

Harry’s face morphed into confusion.

“Of course I am Draco. What a silly question. What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know, baby. You seem far away. Uneasy. For weeks now. It’s like one day we were okay, and the next…do you ever think, that maybe, you’d be happier with a woman? You hardly identify as gay. You just found out you were into blokes a few months ago.”

Wrong. He wasn't into blokes. The truth was he wasn’t into anyone, if they weren’t Draco. He never felt the faintest temptation to stray. Draco made him the happiest man alive. All this, was only to make him happy in return. He’d never been attracted like this to anyone before, man or woman. His smell, alone, was enough to get his cock hard and leaking. He need only stand next to him and inhale. But, he couldn’t say these things. He had a goal.

“Think I might be bi. But who cares what my label is? I’m with you…I’m just…eager to start my training.”

He wiggled his eyebrows and Draco gave him a sly grin that made his heart thump.

“Would you like to see your reward, if you’re a good boy?”

“Oh. Yes, please. Yes, sir.”

Draco chuckled and summoned Neech to retrieve the black velvet box in his study.

When he returned, Draco opened an expensive looking square box and turned it towards him. Nestled in the inner black velvet was a burgandy leather collar with a steel metal D ring attached. It was flatter in the front so that it would sit nicely under clothes. This was no dog collar. It was a thing of beauty. It glinted dangerously in the candlelight. Harry’s cock stirred, just looking at it. The promises it held.

“May I?”

“You can touch it, but you must never put it on. That’s my job.” He winked.

Harry stroked the leather and it felt unnaturally soft. He imagined it around his neck, in public. He should have felt shame, but the thought just swelled his dick more. Draco was observing his responses with rapt attention.

“Best leather galleons could buy. I had your initials embroidered on the inside. I thought the red would go better with your coloring.”

Harry noticed the “HP” in thin black lettering by the buckle. Draco was finally letting him in, letting him see. He blinked rapidly to clear his watering eyes. He needed to feel the pressure of the expensive leather around his neck.

“May I try it on?”

“Not yet…this collar has to be earned. It’s a privilege. It makes you mine, in a different way. The power shifts to me and you become my responsibility. It may be months before that happens. In the meantime I have a whole collection of collars to choose from when we play.”

Harry tried his best to hide his disappointment, but he was always pants at masking his emotions. Draco smiled at his reaction. It was a good sign. It made his cock twitch to see Harry so desperate to submit. To be his. It renewed his energy.

“Let’s retire to bed early. Your training begins tonight.”

_________________________________________________________________________

Harry was jittery with nerves as he showered and cleaned himself, inside out, per Draco’s command. He wondered if it would hurt too badly. He knew he should have staved off his potion, but Draco had forced him to drink it the minute they came home. Off the potion, his pain tolerance was much higher around the full moon. What would Draco be doing to him tonight? He was extremely nervous to find out but strangely excited, at the same time.

When he came out, he was naked, as was his custom, but tonight, he felt vulnerable. He headed to the wardrobe to put on underwear.

“Clothes won’t be necessary.”

He jumped at the sound of Draco’s voice. A smooth commanding drawl, one he’d never heard. Blood rushed to his cock instantly. Draco was hidden in a corner, cast in shadow. He hadn’t noticed him, at first. He was still fully dressed in professional clothing. Black trousers and a fitted black button down. The moonlight caught his platinum hair and pale skin, making him look like a seductive vampire. 

“Come here, pet.”

Draco stood and directed him to his dresser where a myriad of tools were laid out, neatly. Draco took time explaining to him the differences between them.

“This is a flogger. It won’t break the skin, unless you let me go on forever.”

“Let you?”

“Yes Harry. I may be the Dom, but you have the power to stop me at any time. I want you to choose a safeword now. Yellow means slow down or end the scene, but not the play. Your safeword will end it, completely. Choose something non-sexual.”

“Quidditch.”

“Perfect. If at any time, you feel like you can’t handle it, say ‘quidditch’ and I’ll stop.”

Draco encouraged him to pick up each tool and test it against his hand, needing him to know what to expect. He knew exactly how all these things felt like when struck on the skin. Draco may have trained Blaise, but Blaise also trained him, in turn. He didn’t just pop into existence as the perfect Dom. He made Blaise use all these tools on him as well, so he would know how they felt, how much strength to use.

Harry ran his fingers over them in wonder. A whole new world was being opened up to him. He felt like he was walking on lava. He knew it would burn, but he wanted to feel it anyway. He ran his fingers over the smooth leather of different collars, all of them black, some with metal rings, and others without. The cold metal of shackles with chains connecting them. Different furs, floggers, crops, paddles of different sizes. Finally his fingers landed on a strange mushroom shaped object.

He picked it up.

“What’s this?”

Draco grinned mischievously.

“It’s called a plug. You’ll see what it’s used for, soon enough…First, I thought we could go over different positions.”

Harry went to a clearing in the room and fidgeted nervously. He suddenly had no idea what to do with his hands and was keenly aware of them dangling stupidly at his sides.

“Nervous, pet?”

“A little.”

Draco smiled. He was finally getting under Harry’s skin. He’d never seen the man so nervous and subdued. He only hoped it wouldn’t be too much for him. He slipped a black collar around his neck. Harry’s skin broke out in goosebumps all over. Licking his lips, Draco relished his sensitive response. _Delicious._

“Hands behind your back, hold your wrists—yes like that. Good. When I ask you to 'display' I’ll want you like this. Feet spread and arms back.”

Harry locked eyes with him, hoping he was doing it right.

“When that collar is around your neck, you should never look straight into my eyes and will always address me as sir.”

Harry bowed his head low and began to slouch.

“Back straight. Head too. Only your eyes should be low.”

Spurred on by this new sexual commanding drawl of Draco’s, Harry quickly corrected his posture. His cock was fully erect, pointing straight out.

“Hmm. This turns you on, pet. You have such a beautiful, thick cock.”

“Thank you, sir. You have the sexiest voice.”

“Turn towards the bed. Put your hands straight out, flat on the duvet. Push away from it and spread your legs slightly. This is called the ‘Grace’ position.”

“Grace. Yes sir.”

Draco’s cock was painful now. Ripping a hole through his trousers. Harry Potter was willingly in the grace position in his bedroom calling him ‘sir.’ He could hardly keep his voice steady, but it was a necessity. He didn’t want Harry to know his affect on him. He continued in his slow drawl.

“Excellent. We’ll use this for your evening punishment, among other things. I know you can display—show me again.”

Harry smoothly transitioned back into Display position. Eyes low. Back straight. Perfect.

“This next pose is called 'Present.' On your hands and knees. Down on your elbows—yes, like that. Arch your back so your ass is raised.”

Draco stood back and admired his boy for a moment. _Fuck._ He could hardly believe it.

“Absolutely lovely. Now, from here I can play with your ass, your balls…I can spank you, fuck you, flog you. When I say ‘present’ you immediately drop and arrange yourself like this.”

“Yes, sir.”

He noticed Harry’s cock oozing precum on his hardwood. He wanted to lick it off the floor but had to contained himself.

“Back into display.”

Harry got up unsteadily, standing in display position, once more.

“I expect your transitions to be smoother in future.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

“Bend over and rest your hands on your shins. Spread your legs. Wider. No, that’s too much. Yes, perfect. Beautiful pet. This one’s called 'Affirmation.'

Harry didn’t answer. His purple cock looked painfully hard now. Draco grinned widely, thankful Harry couldn’t see. He could get used to this view.

“Now, kneel.”

Harry immediately dropped to his knees with his hands behind his back. Eyes lowered respectfully. Draco felt drunk on power. He wanted to fuck Harry more than anything, but he couldn’t. He had a test to administer, one that would take all night and tomorrow. He was admiringly him in silence for a few long minutes, when Harry, not being able to handle it, shot his eyes back up to look at him.

“Eyes down, pet. You’ll be punished for that.”

Shivering, Harry lowered his gaze.

“Tell me the poses.”

“Display, Grace, Present, Affirmation, and Kneel.”

“Very good. You look so beautiful in every single one. My beautiful boy.”

Harry blushed, trying to stave off a smile.

“Now, for your punishment. Grace.”

Harry rose from the floor and bent over the edge of the bed with his arms straight out and flat against the duvet. Picking up a small flogger, Draco cracked it against his clothed thigh a few times. He knew that the sound of the whip was as equally effective as its sting. Seeing him shiver, Draco felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Tell my why you’re being punished, pet.”

“Because I looked you in the eye, sir.”

“Yes. That deserves one stroke. Why else?”

Harry was silent, wracking his brain for any mistakes he made tonight. He couldn’t think of anything else, thinking he did rather well.

“This extends beyond the bedroom. If we’re going to do this, you must be respectful at all times. You were late coming back for lunch. Do you think looking at that assistant’s ass is a good way to please me? Do you think shamelessly flirting with everyone in the office is a good way to earn my respect?”

“No sir.”

“Three strokes each. Ten strokes total.”

Draco snapped his whip menacingly in the air. He didn’t want Harry to know when he’d strike. That was half the fun. At the first crack, Harry gasped.

“Did that hurt pet?”

“No sir. Not at all. Just stings a bit.”

“Good. I’ll never truly hurt you. You must know that. I may cause some pain and discomfort, but if it’s ever too much, I want you to use your safe word. This is for your pleasure as well as mine. Do you understand?”

“I think so, sir. I’m beginning to understand. I’m so hard right now, it hurts.”

At his frustrated groan, Draco had to put a hand over his mouth to contain a chuckle. He was beyond delighted Harry was taking this so well.

By the time Draco finished his punishment, Harry’s ass had reddened beautifully. He stroked it tenderly, oozing in his pants. He’d made a mess of his trousers, soaked with precum.

“Lovely shade pet. So warm. You did so good tonight. You’ve pleased me, and now it’s time for your reward. Lie back on the bed.”

His eyes were cast low, still not meeting Draco’s, but he suddenly needed to see them. He needed to know how Harry truly felt about this night. What would be in those green orbs? Vulnerability, fear, hesitancy, regret? He reached up and unbuckled his collar, kissing Harry sensually on the mouth.

“Look at me.”

When Harry looked up, he almost creamed his pants. His pupils were blow black and there was a new desperation there. Pleading.

“May I please touch you?”

“Of course.”

He pounced on Draco immediately, gripping his cock through his trousers. He rutted against him viciously, like an animal. He began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Ah, ah, ah. Not tonight. We’re still not done. There’s still the matter of your reward. Lie back.”

Draco got off the bed, hiding a smirk. Putting the collar back in its place, he picked up the plug as well as his favorite bottle of lubricant. Harry’s eyes widened at the sight.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to take care of you. Do you trust me?”

Harry nodded.

Draco knelt between his legs and began stroking his cock lightly while generously lubing his hole with a single finger. Overly sensitive as he was, Harry went wild, moaning continuously.

“Oh please fuck me sir. Please. I need you inside me.”

Draco smirked at still being called ‘sir’ out of play.

He took pity on the man and began sucking his cock as he placed two fingers inside now, brushing his prostate. Harry immediately blew into his mouth with a shout.

There were tears at the corners of his eyes and he wiped them away. Draco smiled and continued to finger him, putting three fingers inside, amply lubing his hole.

“You’re so tight. Do you think you’ll be able to take my cock?”

“Oh, yes. Yes, sir. Give it to me. Right now.”

Draco smirked before putting disdain in his voice. It took real effort because he was so giddy.

“You must learn that you’re not to command me to do anything. You may ask nicely, and I may or may not oblige, but never give me an order. Commands are mine to make and yours to follow. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. Pretty please fuck me now.”

Draco chuckled at his cheek. _God,_ this was so good. Too good. He never thought he could love Harry more, but he was just proven wrong.

Satisfied by his work, he pulled his fingers out. Harry thought he was getting him ready to be filled with cock, so he was alarmed when he felt something cold and hard slide inside instead.

“Oh! Is that the plug?”

“Yes.”

Draco thrust it in and out and Harry quickly began to harden again.

“Oh. Mmm.”

Draco pushed it all the way in, so that it sat directly on his p spot and withdrew his fingers to get his wand.

“Is that thing going to stay in all night? It feels good, but kind of uncomfortable.”

“Yes. But there’s more it could do.” With a wave of his wand, it began to vibrate.

“Oh fuck. Draco!”

At the sight of his trembling, Draco smiled with glee. He knew exactly what it felt like. Draco waved his wand again, pushing up the intensity and Harry gripped his cock, but his hand was smacked away. He was already leaking copiously. 

“Harry, I need you to understand that your pleasure is under my control. This is going to be a test to see if you could truly handle being a submissive. You are to wear this all night and all day tomorrow. I’ll unplug you tomorrow evening, but as long as I’m in the building, I’ll be able to do…this.”

Another wave of his wand kicked up the intensity yet another notch. Harry blew his second load of cum all over his stomach, shivering. After a few minutes, he was still half hard.

“At work? You wouldn’t.”

Draco smirked. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

______________________________________________________________________________________


	5. The Magic Plug

Draco sends Harry to sleep at Grimmauld Place that night, under the guise of ordering him to reflect on his decisions. It’s more to remove the temptation of unplugging him immediately and fucking him harder than he ever has.

He imparts a warning that the plug has a purple dye that will be released if he tries to remove it and doesn’t sleep much that night, thinking about how many times Harry will have to toss off in the night to relieve himself. It will never be enough. He advises him to wear tight boxer briefs and to bring a change of underwear to work.

The sound of tapping on the window wakes him at five in the morning, bringing in Harry’s snowy white owl with a letter containing one word:

“Please.”

Draco smirks, knowing he probably didn’t sleep a wink. That morning, they have a 9am auror meeting headed by Shacklebolt and his cock hardens as he watches Harry’s slow movement. His body strung taught with tension. He knows, instinctively that the plug is still inside and he’s trying to move in a way so as not to push it against his p-spot. His only regret is that his auror robes hide the evidence of his erection. Harry fixes his eye with a cold stare as he sits downwith a strangled noise. It’s far too risky to activate it here, but Draco is spending most of his time in the forensics lab today, so he may not get another chance. The plug is magicked to vibrate soundlessly for just such an occasion. He waves his wand under the table once, the lowest setting, and Harry jerks. Draco relishes the whiteness of his knuckles as he grips the edge of the table, hanging on for dear life. It makes him stiff as a rod to watch.

After ten seconds, Harry starts profusely sweating. Weasley notices and Harry practically jumps out of his chair, excusing himself to the bathroom. Draco waits to be sure he’s there and then kicks up the vibration to full intensity for a full minute. 

Walking back in ten minutes later, Harry fixes Draco with a hateful glare. He imagines Harry sweating in the bathroom stall, muscles tense from the plug’s vibrations, one calloused hand braced against the wall while the other strokes his raw cock to completion, struggling to keep silent as he blows into a wad of tissues. It’s almost enough to make him cream his pants.

In the forensics lab, Draco tries not to think about how Harry’s been hard for the last ten hours. His thick glorious cock straining against his tight boxer briefs. By lunch time, he decides on a surprise visit to his office. His door is half open as is his custom, so he doesn’t need to knock when walking in. He spots Harry with his head lying flat on his desk, turned away with his cheek against the wood, his eyes open, unseeing.

“Working hard, pet?”

Harry jerks in surprise and groans, probably from the shift of the plug. He casts a quick silencing and locking charm on his door.

“Get this bloody thing out of me!” His voice is distressed and spent.

Draco narrows his eyes at the command though he’s pleased to hear the sound of struggle.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that until tonight. You can always take it out yourself…”

His jaw locks defiantly, knowing he’ll be forfeiting if he were to do so.His stubbornness and refusal to give up his sub status lights a fire in Draco’s loins. He slinks like a cat towards Harry behind his desk and moves his chair out, kneeling before him. 

He undoes his pants and pulls his hard cock out, licking the shaft hungrily. Then deepthroats him while pushing on the plug at the same time. Harry absolutely loses it. He’s gripping the sidearms of his chair hard when Draco pulls out his wand and reactivates the plug to full intensity, swallowing him down to the hilt. Harry blows into his mouth with a harsh cry and he swallows the little cum he has left. Another wave, and the toy is still. 

Harry is boneless and spent, his cock still half hard when Draco fixes up his pants for him. His legs are shaking. He lets out a tremulous breath and tries to speak, but nothing comes out.

Grinning like a cat-that-caught-the-canary, Draco strokes his hair softly and turns to leave. At the door, he pauses and turns.

“Tonight. Wait for me at Grimmauld.”

Harry’s eyes are closed and he’s still trembling, unresponsive. 

________________________________________________________________________

Draco’s wound up tight when he arrives at Grimmauld Place that night, and Harry’s nowhere in sight. Fear and fury mix as he stalks through the house. When he pushes open the bedroom door and finds it dark, a wall of dread slams into him. Then, he hears the springs creak.

Warm relief gets him grinning as he strides to the bed to find Harry on his back with his cock out, pointing to the ceiling. His body is bathed in a silver sheen from the moonlight streaming in.

“Hiding in the dark.”

He sits down on the bed besides him, running a palm up his calf. Harry is silent.

“After the show you put on for me today, I can understand why.”

Draco gets on his knees to stroke his thick erection, working him from base to tip, where he finds a slick bead of precum.

“Kind of like a toy, pet, really. Given the right magic…”

He reaches between his cheeks and taps the plug’s base. He presses on it and Harry grunts. His muscled legs fall open and Draco waves his wand to activate the plug with his free hand.

“Ahhh.”

He pumps the toy inside him so he feels the need to lift his hips, to arch his back and try to bring it deeper.

Draco waves his wand again to turn up the intensity, and Harry thrusts his dick in his hand.

He strokes his cock lightly and a rivulet of precum streams down his shaft. He’s rocking his hips, flexing his legs. Draco thinks of his hard cock straining his boxer briefs as Weasley asks him what’s wrong. Of the careful way he moved about the room with the plug stuffing him.Of his delicious white knuckles gripping his chair arms as he blows into his mouth— and can’t help needing to suck him again.

“Oh gods….fuck… _Draco_.”

Draco dials back the toy so it’s throbbing just a little where he needs it. Then he blows him like he’s starving for his cum. Like he’s delirious from aching for him all day, which he is. He didn’t get to escape into the men’s room today to relieve the tension. He’s groaning from his heavy balls and steel erection.

Still, Draco takes his time enjoying him. He uses mostly lips and tongue, so at the end, when he starts sucking, he’s rewarded with another spurt of salty sweet precum. He cums a second later. Harry’s hand is grasping his hair, his cock is shoved down his throat, his whole body quaking violently as curses spill from his lips. 

When he’s finished, Harry’s still mostly hard. Draco squeezes the base, and he gives a low groan.

“Tired, are you? Roll onto your stomach.”

Draco pulls lube from his pocket and spreads it around his plugged hole.

“Relax, pet. I’m gonna get this for you.”

Harry moans as he works the plug out. Purple dye drips between his cheeks and down his balls. He dabs the stuff up with a handkerchief in his pocket and spreads a little numbing cream around his hole. He doesn't want to heal it completely. Harry needs to feel this. He moves his hand away to watch his cheeks come back together.

Draco moves to the bathroom to wash up. When he returns, Harry’s in the same position he left him in, stretched out on his stomach. He crawls on the bed, moving slowly because he’s still so hard. He stretches out next to him on his side, looking at his face for a second before brushing damp hair off his forehead, revealing his lightening shaped scar.

“Thirsty?” Draco conjures a glass of ice water and brings it to his lips.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds ragged. He drinks the whole glass.

Draco conjures an ice pack and moves down, spreading his cheeks to put the soft pack there, but Harry’s hand stops him.

“I like it.”

Draco’s cock throbs. “Do you?”

He traces a fingertip along his purple-stained crack. Then Harry rocks back towards him.

“You want it.” Draco swallows hard.“You want me in you.”

“Yes.”

“You want my fingers or—“

“I want to be used so hard, I can’t walk tomorrow. Then I want to fucking sleep.”

Draco’s never been so hard in his entire life. He shifts him on his back to work their cocks together, until they’re both rock-hard and groaning. Then he fills him with lube. He rubs his tip against his hole and works his way in slowly, watching his face for pain. But he looks rapt. He’s breathing deep and steady. When Draco pushes deep into him, he raises his legs over his shoulders.

Draco’s so worked up that it hurts to hold out, but he does, for the first few minutes, at least. Harry gives a groan then a hoarse shout as he starts to come in harder, faster. Draco thinks he must feel his dick swell when he’s close, because he reaches out to run his palm over his thigh, starting a grunted litany of, “oh yea…oh yea…oh yea.”

Finally, when Draco is sweating and shaking and can’t help it—he’s about to cum—he rubs himself over Harry’s hot spot and he shudders his name.

“ _Draco.”_

He comes harder than he ever has. So hard that by the time Draco opens his eyes, he wonders how he got there. He’s slumped half on top of him. Harry’s got an arm behind his head, his bicep bulging, and he’s sort of smirking at him, even though his abs are streaked with cum and one of his legs is still up on his back. Draco laughs, and his lips twist into something like a grim smile.

Harry looks tired, but Draco thinks, not unhappy.

“Fuck.” Harry twists his hips, lifting off the bed like he’s sore. Then his tired eyes find his.

___________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This scene is heavily influenced by Ella James, especially the second half, from her book Adore. Can't take all the creds on this beautiful smut. Hope you liked it. What do you think of subHarry so far? Is it good? Should I continue? kudos or comment.


	6. I Am In Chains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “I am in chains. Don’t touch my chains.” 
> 
> Franz Kafka

_Fuck,_ he feels crazy. He knows it’s not the werewolf poison because he took his potion. As Harry washes up, and Draco goes downstairs to see about dinner, he thinks on his whole day. Everything about today was absolutely mental. Harry wasn’t a damn submissive…but he liked it. If he was honest with himself, he fucking loved the filthy, depraved shame of all of it. He’d do it again.

When Harry comes downstairs, he sees that Draco’s got his back against the lounge end of his couch, leaning against a pillow with his long legs out, ankles crossed in front of him. His pale pecs glimmer in the firelight as if they were chiseled marble. Light bounces off his platinum hair. He looks just like a demigod in white boxer briefs. He’s moody and brooding, even more so than usual. Draco turns his face towards him, lifting an eyebrow.

Harry swallows as Draco’s gaze moves over his fresh boxer briefs then back up to his face. There’s a beat where they don’t speak. Where it feels…strained. Draco looks at him with a grave face, and Harry feels like he’s stepping into thin air as he moves to sit besides him on the couch.

Something shifts.

_Crack!_

Harry nearly jumps out of his skin when Neech apparates in the parlor, delivering dinner from the manor.

“Thank you Neech.”

“You’re welcome, Master Draco.”Draco nods to him and he vanishes.

_Master._

Harry dwells on the word as Draco hands him a bowl of chicken parmesan. As he settles it in his lap, it suddenly hits him—Harry feels _scared._ He knows he’ll do anything for Draco. Anything he ever asks, no matter what it is. It’s like…he just can’t _not._ Something in Harry is bent when he’s beside him….like a flower turning towards the sun.

Harry is struck with another horror of understanding that sends his heart shooting off into a sprint. This is the same version of Draco that Blaise called _his_ for fifteen years. It was this broody, sulking demigod that could bring you to your knees with the raise of an eyebrow. Blaise would never let go of him. His magnetism is undeniable. Harry had only experienced it for a few days; what would fifteen years do to a man?It was bad enough being hopelessly in love with the old Draco. The strict auror. The loving father. Lover of horses. The smooth pureblood businessman with all his compassion, charisma, and wit. Harry feels his heart expanding as everything else shrinks inside him. He suddenly regrets bringing forth this dominant Draco because now, he feels like...a slave.

The thought suffuses his face with heat. No longer an individual person with his own needs and desires. His only desire was to please him, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing it. He felt Draco’s invisible shackles fix firmly in place with a loud clank, permanent, stronger than any metal could ever be. He holds out his wrists willingly. 

Fear grips his heart.

“What are you thinking about?” 

The reply is slow. 

“Oh, nothing…just a wild day.” Harry forces a grin.

Draco’s brow furrows and Harry has the inexplicable desire to lick the space between them to smooth it out.

“Too wild?”

Draco’s muscles are all tensed, hunching towards him. It suddenly dawns on him. Harry’s potential discomfort is the cause of his grave face. Draco is worried that this would be too much for him. That it would push him away. Considering his new reality, he manages to stifle a grim laugh at how far away from that he truly is. How strange it is to think that Draco’s always felt like the helpless one, the one that was bending. The one without a choice. He remembers that Draco loves him, too. It wasn’t this sick slavery, but it was something.

“I can handle it.” Harry winks.

Then in an act of sheer insanity.

“I want to sign a contract.”

A wolfish grin lights up Draco’s face and Harry thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Think you’re ready for a contract after a few orgasms, Potter?”

Yes. Steer it towards the sex. That would lead him right. _Keep it casual, Harry._

“Ten’s more than a few.” He raises his eyebrows and grins to mask his new sickness.

Draco chuckles. He’s in a good mood. Harry did that to him.

“Let’s get some rest, pet. You must be wiped. Do you mind if we apparate to the manor?”

Harry’s too in his head to argue. He knows Draco loves his silk comforter.

As they lay in bed together, Harry turns and huddles at the edge, away from Draco. He knows he likes his space when it comes to sleep. He couldn’t remember ever being so tired in his life, besides in times of war. Yet, sleep didn’t come.

He thought of Blaise. Is this what he feels? How does he live? This horrible longing for Draco suddenly felt painful. He knew his request for a contract would be completely blown off. It was too soon, to be sure, but that didn’t make him want it less. He felt like he never knew the real Draco until now. It wasn’t fair. He wanted to belong to him the way Blaise did. _Still does._ He was jealous of Blaise for getting to experience what he called ‘his darkness.’ It was his most beautiful part. Meanwhile, Harry only got to experience his fluffy surface. Blaise had it all. He he had nothing.

_He loves you. He doesn’t love Blaise._

Though Draco often told him he loved him, it was always more Harry than him, from the very beginning. Harry is the one who pursued a reluctant Draco. Harry was always the one pushing him, pulling him in. He couldn’t imagine loving him like this and having none in return, the way Blaise did. He almost felt pity for the man. _Almost._

It occurs to him that Draco probably won’t want to sign a contract with him until his thing with Blaise is resolved. Would it ever be? If Blaise felt even an inkling of what Harry felt now, he knew he would never break it. It would be the same as breaking off his own limbs. Ripping out his own heart. Harry always got the sense that Draco used Blaise as his fail-safe, in case things fall through. There must be some reason he was with Blaise for such an obscene amount of time. He had to admit that Blaise was the better looking one and the more natural submissive. He was far richer than Harry and grew up in pureblood circles, just like Draco. And, they had _this_ for so long. Something Harry only got a taste of, and he was already a goner. Losing Draco to him suddenly became a genuine fear. As long as that contract was valid, it was possible. If he lost Draco…he couldn’t even think on it.

He imagined himself as an alive version ofthe bloody baron. A ghost who wandered this life with heavy clanking chains, connected to no one.

_____________________________________________________________________________


	7. Master

Draco wakes up before Harry, thankful for the opportunity to study his beautiful face in sleep, one of his favorite hobbies. He takes in his long dark lashes and mess of dark hair on the pillow. He can’t help but stroke his pouty lips. But his face is clenched as if he’s suffering, even in sleep. It’s a new look and Draco knows he hardly slept last night. He stayed awake a long time listening for the sound of his even breathing, but it never came. He wanted to hold him so badly but felt a broodiness from him the entire night. Harry was hiding something from him. He feared that he was overwhelmed with their new arrangement and wanted to give him space to think. Still, his pet deserved a reward for his performance yesterday.

Draco slowly pulls the covers back to reveal his hulking tanned body. _God,_ the man was fucking perfect. He looked fake, like a sculpture, especially his pert ass. Draco suddenly needed to lick it. The minute he moves down to do just that, Harry wakes up in a fright, like he’s being attacked in his sleep.

“Whoa. Easy, pet. It’s just me. What’s wrong baby?”

He was jumpy all last night too. He nearly flew off the couch when Neech popped in. Harry looks crazed. He doesn’t answer.

“Bad dream?”

“You could say that.”

“Let me take care of it.”

Draco flips him back around. When Harry realizes what he intends to do, he pushes him off.

“No. That’s my job. Don’t.”

Draco’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.Harry jumps off the bed and walks straight to the shower. Draco pounds his head in the pillow, beyond frustrated. Harry’s pulling away from him, again. He screams into the pillow.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

Draco enters the shower behind him, stroking his bulging arms.

“Talk to me Harry. I know something’s wrong. You hardly slept last night.”

Harry jerks his arm away, remaining silent.

_Brat._ This behavior wasn’t going to fly anymore. Draco grabs his wrist hard and puts him in a submissive position against the wall, pressing his arm to his lower back. Harry does not struggle. Dracoknows he loves this treatment. He keeps the anger out of his voice and uses his commanding drawl to let him know that the game is on.

“You’re in trouble now, pet. When I ask you a question, I expect an answer.”

He sees Harry’s cock harden instantly and smiles behind him.

_“_ Why did you move away from me in the bed?” He slaps and grabs his ass hard enough to hurt. Harry groans.

“Don’t you realize this ass belongs to me? I’ll do whatever I want to it.”

_“_ Yes, sir. I thought…I thought it was my job to give you pleasure.”

“Wrong.It’s my job to give you pleasure. That’s what truly brings me pleasure. That’s how it always was with...”

Draco catches his mistake too late. This time, Harry breaks his hold angrily. He shouts at him.

“With who? Blaise!?”

Draco fucked up. What the bloody hell was he thinking? He usually never mentioned him, but Blaise had been fresh in his dreams.He had a nightmare that a brutal Dom was flogging him with a glass ended whip, ripping the skin from his back. And all this Dom/sub play was triggering memories of him.

At Draco’s silence, Harry rushes to get out of the shower. Draco holds his head in his hands, letting the water cascade over his head. _fuck._ He showers quickly and exits to find Harry destroying his room. He’s paralyzed with shock. Hurt is one thing, but this is madness. He’s a naked titan, overcome with rage. He’s already thrust all of Draco’s things off the dresser. There’s a pile of broken glass on the floor. His cologne is absorbing into the carpet. He picks up a wooden chair from the corner of Draco’s room and breaks it against one of the posters of the bed. A splinter of wood comes flying at Draco’s face, cutting his cheek.

“Ah.”

The sight of blood on his face is enough for Harry to calm down.

“Draco, are you all right?” He reaches up to touch his cheek, but Draco smacks his hand away. No matter the reason, his behavior is inexcusable.

“We need to talk Potter. Get dressed.”

Harry seems to sense he crossed a line because his look is fearful when he hears Draco’s livid voice. He waves his hand and the room instantly corrects back to its immaculate state, though there’s nothing to be done for the cologne. Empty bottles sit unbroken on the counter, of no use to anyone.

Draco dresses quickly and leaves the room, thanking Merlin it’s the weekend, but wishing it wasn’t. In light of Harry’s rash behavior, he knows he probably has a long day ahead of him. He almost wishes he could go to work. He’s barely woken up andHarry was acting like he was starring in his own telenovela.

_______________________________________________________________

The parlor is warm from hearth as Draco pours them each a glass of firewhiskey. He tries to hand one one to Harry but his arms are crossed and he’s staring impertinently away from him. He sets it down on the table and sits across from him.

“Harry, this isn’t working between us.”

Harry instantly imagines the bloody baron. He swears he can hear his chains scraping the marble floor. Though he expects Draco to leave him, he certainly didn’t expect it to happen so soon. His eyes prickle with tears that threaten to fall and he’s thankful his head is turned away so that Draco can’t see. He tries to speak, but no words come out. His lungs are paralyzed. 

“I don’t think a Dominant/submissive relationship is best for us. Can we please go back to the way we were? Everything was fine between us.”

Harry lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He takes a second to blink his tears back, realizing he jumped to the wrong conclusion. Now that he’s breathing again, it’s easier to talk.

“I like being your submissive Draco. It’s what I want. I've learned a lot about it, and I'm ready.”

“Do you think a true submissive would have an emotional outburst like that and destroy his Dom’s room? They would sooner die than show that level of disrespect. Your jealousy over Blaise is ruining us. I’m sorry I slipped up in the shower, but you have to accept that he was a part of my life. He was my sub for fifteen years. Of course this stuff makes me think of him, but you’re the one in my life now. I feel nothing for him. When are you going to accept that?”

Harry finally faces him, hoping his face isn’t betraying too much emotion.

“Was your sub? Still is, Draco. He belongs to you even more than I belong to you. As long as that contract remains unbroken, his claim to you is stronger than mine. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“He never invokes the contract, Harry. For the hundredth time, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“I can’t live like that Draco. I need that contract dissolved.”

Silence.

“We just talked about it a few days ago. Give me some time. I’m working on it.”

“Oh yeah? How? I’m curious to know how you think you’re going to get him to break it. Because I just don’t see him doing it.”

“Well…one option is introducing him to another Dom to take my place.”

Harry laughs. It’s a bubbling saddening laugh, but it goes on a long time. Draco thinks there’s someone out there that can replace him? He doesn’t realize his affect. He doesn’t know about the invisible shackles. Harry, and probably Blaise too, would live the rest of their lives on their knees, if he requested it. He doesn’t know.

Draco lifts an eyebrow at him. “What’s so funny?”

Harry lies quickly. “You guys are a bunch of twisted fucks. What’s he need a Dom for that badly anyway?”

Draco looks crestfallen at Harry’s words. “You’re right. We are a bunch of twisted fucks, and you’re not. Listen Harry, I know this life is hard for you to understand which is why I don’t think you’re suited to it. Blaise is only happy if he’s pleasing a Dom. That’s what brings him joy.”

Harry rolls his shoulders, only too keen of that feeling. But Draco is the one who doesn’t understand. He thinks Blaise is only happy pleasing a Dom, but the truth is,Blaise is only happy pleasing Draco. He knows it in his bones because he feels the same way.

“And if that doesn’t work?”

A look of pain crosses Draco’s face and he whispers softly.

“Then,I’ll have to hurt him…make him not trust me anymore.”

“That sounds like the better option to me.”

Draco stands up, angry, and turns his face away.

“Don’t speak of things you know nothing about. You’re performance in my room today was appalling. I’m not going to continue with this Harry.”

Harry doesn’t know what came over him. Thinking about his new slavery makes him uncomfortable and unsettled. He feels like a raw nerve. When Draco mentioned him, he just saw red. He couldn’t stop himself. The need for destruction was palpable. Destruction was a decision he could control. Once a very powerful wizard, now, a slave. He feels that all his power and status amounts to nothing. Total weakness threads through his rapid pulse. He’s so certain that Draco is going to leave him for Blaise or some other sub that was better at this than him. Or just leave him, period. And there will be nothing he can do about it.

“I’m sorry Draco. I’m still new to this. I’m ready and willing to learn. Don’t give up on me. I need this. I want to please you. Let’s play this out for the rest of the weekend. For real. No breaking the scene. Just show me your true Dom self for two full days, and I’ll prove to you how good of a submissive I can be.”

Draco turns to face him and crouches so he’s eye level.

“The first thing you’re going to need to learn is that you can’t act out when you’re angry. You must always be respectful of your Dom, even out of play. You need to control yourself. Being a good sub at its core is about discipline. Discipline your mind. Control your emotions.”

Harry grew emotional thinking of his son, Albus’ namesake, Severus Snape. He used to tell him the same thing and that’s probably where Draco learned it, considering he was his godfather. He felt even more respect for Draco now, knowing he was mentored by the bravest man he ever knew. Harry nodded at him.

“Dom/sub play is not something I do full time. I call it play but I want you to understand it’s not a game. It’s very serious and requires total submission and honesty towards me. You become mine. My responsibility. It takes an enormous amount of energy to show you what that means and we already have a beautiful relationship outside of it."

At Harry's desperate face, he makes his decision. 

I have decided to commit this weekend to you, fully, to see how we work. If it works, then in the future, we can play often. Being my sub means if I want to lick your hole in the morning without having to slap you around, I expect to be able to do so, without a fight. I expect a certain level of respect and obedience, even out of play. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir.”

That brings a small smile to Draco’s face.

“Come, pet.”

It’s on.

Rising from his seat, Harry notices Draco is heading for the stairs and gets overexcited, flying right past him to beat him to the bedroom. Draco grabs his arm.

“When we’re in play, you must always walk behind me. About two feet behind me.”

Slowing down to walk behind him, Harry burns a hole through Draco’s skull with his eyes. Draco turns.

“Eyes down. Always. Yes, even when you’re behind me. I shall know.”

As they walk up the stairs, Draco peaks at the mirror to see if Harry is listening. He is, mostly, but the mirror distracts him and he looks over, connecting with Draco’s eyes. He’s shocked to be caught and quickly looks down again.

“Oh pet, what am I going to do with you? One day I shall have to teach how to heel. But right now, we will discover your limits. Today and for the rest of the weekend, you will be in the collar. Is that agreeable to you pet?”

“Oh yes sir. I wonder, may I call you “Master” if I wish?”

Draco freezes when he gets to a door Harry’s never been through. His cock tents his trousers immediately and he knows Harry sees. He sees a sly grin spread across his face.

“Someone’s been doing their research. Yes, pet, you may. The minute that collar slips on, I am your Master. I want to show you something. This room is called the safe room, where no punishment or discipline will be administered. It’s a safe place to talk, while you wear the collar.”

Draco opens the door to show him a cozy bedroom with a lush Gryffindor red comforter and an in-suite bathroom. There was a small couch and a desk inside. It was rather simple for Malfoy Manor, more suited to Harry’s tastes. He walks on to the opposite end of the corridor to the bedroom.

Wait here.”

Harry waits anxiously and excitedly, hopping on foot to foot. Five minutes later, Draco reemerges.

“Come. I want you to disrobe and put on the leather harness I put on the bed for you. I shall return.”

When Harry walks in, he isn’t looking at the metal harness on the bed. There is an intimidating looking apparatus that Draco has conjured in the living space of the bedroom. All his furniture is pushed to the side. It’s triangular. The top of the triangle is made of a long thin red leather bench, about eight inches wide. On the sides of the triangle were two additions that looked like long padded shelves. There are metal rings attached all around. Harry suddenly feels fearful alone in the room with the thing, but he tries to take his mind off it by disrobing. He needs the harness on before Draco returns. Unfortunately he doesn’t have the faintest clue how to put it on. It’s all black leather straps. Didn’t this thing have an instruction manual? A picture would’ve helped.

Harry is still fiddling with the thing when Draco returns. Harry almost looks at him but remembers he shouldn’t look in his eyes. He is too distracted, in any case, by the cock-hardening black leather pants he’s wearing. He’s shirtless. _God_ he was so bloody perfect. Harry had never seen him in leather.

“Like what you see pet?”

“Oh yes, sir. Very sexy. You were born to be in black leather.”

Harry could tell he was smirking but didn’t look up to find out.

“Today we will be learning your limits. You remember your safe words, I trust. Use them well.”

Harry scoffed, internally. Harry had no limit. He was strong, stronger than anyone. He would prove he was the best sub.

“Having some trouble?”

Draco walks over to help him with the harness, but the first thing he did was slip a black collar around his neck. Harry flushed with heat and goosebumps broke out. It was strange that something so restrictive could make him feel so safe and wonderful. And he gets to wear it for two full days. His cock instantly hardens to full mast. He loved it when Draco slipped on the collar. It was his favorite part. It meant he was _his_. It meant it was starting.

___________________________________________________________________________________

Mmm, _delicious._ Harry looked simply devastating in a black leather harness and matching collar. Draco wanted to sink to his knees and suck his cock so badly. His control as a Dom was always slipping around Harry. He was out of practice and the man was just too sexy.Leather straps crisscrossed around his chiseled chest, crossing his lower back and connected to leather straps that held a satchel for his cock. His ass was completely exposed. _Gods,_ Draco wanted to throw him on the bed and fuck him right now. His cock was straining his leather pants. _Focus, Draco._

“This is called a spanking horse. See these shelves on the side? I want you to put your knees here and kneel over the center bench. Hold onto the handles underneath at the front…Yes that’s it, pet. That’s good.”

Draco used the metal rings to attach padded cuffs on Harry’s wrists and and ankles so he won’t be able to move. He knew Harry could break out of them wandlessly and nonverbally, but _god_ it made such a sight. Harry was attached to a spanking horse, his ass in the air with leather straps crisscrossing his lower back, and Draco was surprised his cock hadn’t ripped through the leather yet.

“Comfortable?”

“Strangely, yes. I am, sir.”

Draco made sure to include ample padding in the bench. He just hoped his magic would hold and the bench wouldn’t suddenly vanish throughout their play. He really needed a play room. That’s what he was going to work on next week.

“Do you remember your safe words pet? Tell me them now.”

“Yes, sir. Yellow to slow down and Quidditch to stop.”

“Perfect. I’ll be treating you to the kangaroo flogger today. Lighter than leather and deer hide. One of my favorites. Nice high impact with a good sting, but not much chance of marks. No healing magic when the collar is on, pet, so remember your safe words.”

Draco held it up a moment and shook out the tails simply for the pleasure of looking at it, the tails swaying nicely.

“Hang on, pet, and remember where you are—my bedroom with me. This is to find your limits.You know the rules and you know your words.”

“Yes sir. I’ll remember.”

Draco started a moderate pace. He spread his blows out, finding his natural rhythm, and began to work Harry over at a steady rate. He had no wish to hurt the man or leave him in pain, but he knew the release they both wanted was at the end of such pain.

“Ah, stings…” Harry told Draco after the first few blows. His words sounded a bit strained. He grunted with each stroke after that, and his fingers tightened around the handles. He managed the silence well enough for a few measured blows, but it must have gotten to him finally because he broke it himself,

“Sir! Ah! Say something, sir.Please?”

Draco could hear the tension in his voice. Harry would surely use his safe words if it was becoming too much for him. That was the point of this.

“What would you have me say?” Draco asked in his soft drawl, “Do you want to hear how beautiful are? Do you want to hear about the way your skin is coloring for me? Or do you merely want my voice?” He struck again and again, harder, and just a little faster. “I want you to let go, pet. Just feel, don’t worry. I’m here.”

“Thank you, sir, anything. Anything you want, just…just need your voice, sir. Ah!”

Harry started breathing audibly, exhaling in soft moans that increased in volume until the sound filled Draco’s ears.

“I am yours, Master, yours.”

It was the first time he had called him “Master.”Draco would have been pleased, if he wasn’t so distracted by Harry’s performance. Harry flinched from the blows and his shoulders began to shake as the sound turned to keening and his grip on the bench handles went slack.

“Oh! Master, please” Harry sobbed, boneless against the bench, but he still staunchly and stubbornly chose not to use his safe words.

“Please what, pet?” Draco demanded, putting the little thrill he got at the word “Master” aside until later. Later he’d savor it. For now, he’d _be_ it.

“Master….ah!”

“Tell me what you want, pet.”

It didn’t serve Harry to continue to pretend like he didn’t have limits, and it was, after all, Draco’s responsibility to find them. Draco continued with the flogger, though his strokes were much lighter. Harry was sore enough at this point that he didn’t need the strikes to be heavy; they’d be painful in any case.

“Please.” Harry’s shoulders shook and his chest expanded and contracted with sobs.

“Mas…Master…”

Draco watched him struggle, and with a stinging snap to his ego, he realized that Harry wasn’t going to use his words. Unable to go forward for fear of doing real harm to Harry, Draco dropped the flogger.

Tears streamed down Harry’s face as Draco knelt besides him and magicked the restraints off. He gathered Harry carefully into his arms.

“It’s okay, it’s over. Harry, listen, it’s done, you’re safe. Breathe. Just breathe, sweetheart, I’m right here. I’m here and I’ve got you, and it’s over.” Draco was shaking, he knew he was, and he had to fight to keep calm. The last thing they needed right now was his guilt and self-recrimination. Harry wouldn't respond well to that. 

“Harry. Tell me what you need.”

Harry sobbed and clung to Draco for a long moment before sobbing out one simple word.

“This…This.”

Harry was clearly trying to calm himself down as well, taking deep breaths, though he kept his face buried in Draco’s chest.

“Just this.”

Draco gathered him closer, soothing him with hands and words, his tone soft as whispers.

“I’m here. I’ll hold you, always. You’re mine, baby, and I’ll always hold you when you need me to.”

Harry leaned into Draco harder. He lifted a hand and placed it over Draco’s heart.

“Your heart is pounding so fast,” Harry observed. “Are you all right?” He moved his hand in slow circles, eyes respectfully low. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry sir. I’m fine. It hurt, but I’m all right.”

Draco shook his head and his eyes prickled, but he kept his voice steady. “We’ll talk about it later, pet. Rest and then we’ll get you cleaned up. I think we could both use a soak in the tub.”

The last thing he was going to do was start talking right then. Not about this, not when Harry was still in his head as far as he was.

“Can you walk yet? I’d like to check your back for bruising.”

“I think so.”

Harry moved away, wincing as he slowly got to his feet with Draco’s help.

“Just feels tight and hot. I think it’s all right.”

He knew he was fussing as he herded Harry into better light, and he he felt every inch of skin and probed muscles.If he wasn’t careful, he’d coddle Harry, and everything would be lost, wasted. He suddenly felt a strong urge to take the collar off right now, but he knew how disappointed Harry would be. He needed to play this out, for him.

“Okay, meet me in the safe room. I’ll clean up here.I want you to have at least one glass of water. You’ll find some ice water on the nightstand. “

“All right sir.”

Harry walked stiffly towards the door. His back was an angry red, but Draco hadn’t harmed him in any permanent way. He closed the door softly behind him.

Sighing, Draco picked up the flogger and crossed to the trunk that held his toys.

“Damn,” he said under his breath, dropping it in.

“Stubborn fool.”

He wasn’t sure which of them he meant. 

____________________________________________________________________

Standing taller, Draco looked at his reflection in the mirror, studying himself. Serious face, set jaw…consciously, he forced himself to relax. That lessened the tightness around eyes, made his face more gentle. Still stern, strong…but not angry. He wasn’t angry, not at Harry. Not really; Harry would learn and they would be fine. If he didn’t learn, that was also fine. Draco didn’t know if he was capable of teaching him.

After vanishing the spanking horse and setting his room right, he rolled his shoulders once and turned on his heel, going to the safe room in easy strides. He knew what he had to say and what to do to restore the balance; it was time to make a few things plain to his strong-willed sub.

Harry was kneeling in the middle of the room, head bowed and arms back, nicely.

“Are you all right?” Draco asked softly. “Physically? There’s no broken skin and I couldn’t find any damaged muscle, but I’m not in your skin.”

Harry shifted and twisted his back slightly as if to be sure of himself before he answered.

“I’m still a bit tender, sir, but I’ll be all right, thank you.”

His voice was soft, lacking a bit of its usual confidence.

Draco crossed over to the dresser to get him some fresh lounge clothes and fresh boxers.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to remove the harness for you. You’re going to dress and I’m going to talk. Then you are going to reflect and we’ll discuss what happens next.”

He indicated for him to stand. Harry looked nervous, as if Draco was going to throw him out of his house at any moment. Draco removed his harness and pointed at the clothes for Harry to get dressed. He leaned against the dresser and crossed his ankles in front of him.

“You seem to misunderstand what I mean by submission, pet. I’m not looking to make you scream in pain. The fact that you let me hit you, whip you, spank you, and tie you up isn’t the submission I’m after.”

Harry looks up sharply, but catches himself before he eyes get above Draco’s waist. He could tell he wants to protest, but he just sighs and lowers his eyes to the floor again. He wasn’t relaxed entirely, but he seemed ready to listen.

“The fact that you let me hit you until you almost couldn’t take it anymore isn’t submission, Harry. It’sa contest within yourself, and it brings me no pleasure—and I know it didn’t bring you any either. So what’s the point? I don’t care how long you can hold out. How hard I can hit you doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t care if you couldn’t take more than five strokes, pet—it’s not the pain for me. It is for you, to a point, and I can give it, but I want something in return. I want you to trust me. I want you to be honest with me.”

Draco stood up, pushing away from the cabinet.

“How can I guide you to your limits and then past them if I don’t know where they are? You had a yellow—and if you had been honest in your reactions you would have used it. You were past the point, you were almost to quidditch, and I could have really damaged you. When I strike you, you can do anything. Yell, scream, beg…anything you want. Show me your reactions, let me know you as a sub. Let me work with you, not be a barrier for you to throw yourself against. Do you understand?”

Harry’s brow furrowed as Draco spoke and he took his time answering.

“Yes, sir,” he sighed, “I think I understand.”

“I want to control what you feel,” Draco said firmly.

He walked around Harry’s kneeling figure slowly, pacing himself and deliberately hardening his tone of voice.

“I want to know what your senses are telling you. I want to know without a doubt what you’re experiencing. I will be in charge. If you’re holding out then it doesn’t matter who’s whipping you, all that matters is someone is hitting you. And I won’t be that. It’s not a game. You’re mine, and I’m your Master, and I will have your honest submission. Are we clear?”

Harry’s cock steadily rose at his words and he tried to adjust to hide it, but his lounge pants were thin.

“Yes sir, we’re clear,” Harry answered much more confidently.

“Good.” Draco stopped behind him and touched his shoulder.

“We’ll be fine, baby. What happened today will not happen again. You’ve earned yourself an hour facing the corner so you can think. I have a few things to take care of, so I’m going to leave a tempus charm for you to go off in an hour. When I come back, you’ll tell me your new prospective on submission.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll think carefully sir.”

Draco nodded. “Corner, then. You have an hour.”

Harry rose gracefully and went to the corner, naturally in display pose. It was impressive.

“I’ll be back later,” he said softly.

____________________________________________________________

Draco let out a long breath when he left the safe room. He was slipping.Maybe Harry could do this, but he couldn’t. As usual, he got the better of him, but he realized that this wasn’t his intention. He saw that his Harry was trying so hard to be perfect for him and it made his heart ache.

He hoped talking to him helped. Draco should have had more lengthy talks with him about it before pushing him to this stage. Too damn overexcited by Harry’s willingness to try this for a weekend. He forgot who he was dealing with. This was the same man who walked directly to his death to defeat the Dark Lord. And that was when he was only a teenager.

He wished so badly he could floo call Blaise. He would know just what to say as he was the only one who understood what it meant to feel like this. He would understand his distress over almost truly hurting Harry. Instead, he went into his study and got out a muggle cigarette to smoke on his balcony with a glass of firewhiskey. It was an awful habit he picked up in France, but he had about one to two cigarettes a month.

He wanted to remove Harry’s collar, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny the appeal of Harry in it. He was shocked by Harry’s tenacity and dedication to his sub position. It made his cock ache to see him in his leather harness on that spanking bench. At the same time, Harry's unwillingness to use his words got him teared up. He was doubting himself. He could tell Harry truly wanted this, but he didn’t know if he, himself, was up for the challenge of such a stubborn sub. This was the man he loved, and he almost hurt him.

He decided he had to wade this out until the end of the weekend, and then they’d discuss if they should go forward. He just hoped he wouldn’t lose his cool before that. He cast a freshening charm on himself to get the horrid smell of smoke off him before he want to the safe room. Over an hour had passed.

Harry had his arms crossed and a shoulder braced against the window as he looked out over the property. He was very still and relaxed. The light from the window washed over his rumpled hair making him look very young. He appeared lost in thought until he heard Draco enter the room, and then turned to face him in the display position, eyes to the floor.

“Feeling better?” Draco asked softly.

He was taken aback by how beautiful Harry looked, how sweet he could be. It was a little disturbing, the desperate way he wanted to reach out and draw him closer, cuddle on the bed with him, without his collar.

Harry smiled. “Yes, sir, very much so. Are you?” 

“I’m fine,” Draco said smoothly. “Now, tell me about submission.”

“Being your sub means it’s my duty to please you, sir. I understand that it means putting your needs ahead of mine, but it’s more difficult than that, it means when I do need to think about myself, it is is in terms of your pleasure, not my ego…I was thinking about myself, how I could be the best sub. I wasn’t thinking about you first. It’s a simple distinction, and I overlooked it. I was focused all wrong, totally on the pain and believing I could withstand it. I thought it would please you if I kept it together, if I let you whip me until you had enough. The pain is not about me. It’s about you, knowing what each sting of your whip does to me. You need to know how I’m feeling because that is something you are to have control over, not me…Also I didn’t use my safe word as a point of pride. Pride in my strength, in how well I can please you, but not in how well I can stand up to you. That’s not only unnecessary with you, but it’s also insulting. I want to apologize to you, sir.”

Draco tilted his head and let the moment draw out a little before relenting.

“Do you seriously want to take this journey?Because it won’t be easy— you’re making a decent start right now. But you almost let me hurt you, and that’s not something I want. Harry, we don’t have to do this. You don’t have to, pet. You know how I feel about you.”

“Thank you, sir, but I want to. More than anything. I didn’t mean to make you doubt me.”

Harry suddenly stepped forward and knelt at Draco’s feet.

“I need this. I need you. Please, don’t doubt me.”

Draco winced. “I don’t doubt you, baby.” He confessed, stroking his hair. He demanded honesty and he had to give it back.

“I doubt myself. I’m sorry Harry.”

“Please, sir. You have every right to expect me use my safe words. Give me another chance.”

Draco surprised him by leaning down to place a soft kiss on his lips. Harry blushed. Draco pet his hair and pulled him by his arm, gently, to stand up.

“Let’s take a bath together, pet. Would you like that?”

“Oh yes, sir.”

Neech had already drawn them a bath in the tub and it smelled heavenly in Draco’s bathroom.

He made Harry disrobe him and then himself. He crawled into the tub first and urged Harry to lay on top of him so that his back wasn’t exposed to the warm water right away. He cursed himself for mentioning that no healing charms were allowed during play. He couldn’t have predicted Harry would be this stubborn, but he should have.

Draco stroked his arms as Harry lay his head on his chest and sighed. Harry’s cock was already fully erect against his thigh but Draco was completely soft.

“Tell me, pet. What do you want out of this? What do you really want me to do to you? Have you thought about it?”

Harry cleared his throat.

“Yes sir, I have. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks.”

There was a long pause.

“It is difficult to say, sir…the things I want make me blush. I want you to take me whenever you want, regardless if I’m ready for it, with or without the collar. I want you to want me that badly. I wish I could wear your collar all the time. I can’t wait to earn the one you bought me. I want you to grab onto it andfuck my throat until I’m crying. I want you to spank me and slap me. I want you to call me your property, your boy, your…whore, your slave. I want you to tie me down so I can’t move and fuck me to your heart’s desire.”

He groaned at Harry's words. Draco’s cock rose to vicious hardness midway through and now, he was in pain. Harry feels it and lets out a soft chuckle.

“Does that please you, sir?”

“Yes.” Draco cleared his throat because his voice was broken. “Yes it does. You have no idea how much.”

“I prepared myself in the safe room before you arrived…”

Draco used his wand to magic half the water away so that they wouldn’t slosh around. Rubbing their cocks together with his hand, he needed to fuck him right now. Harry caught onto his drift and reached down to guide Draco’s cock in his slick hole. He moaned as he breached himself. Draco controlled the pace from below, thrusting shallowly.

“That’s a good pet. That’s my boy. Nice and easy.” 

“Yes, sir. Feels so good inside. Need more.” Harry’s voice was ragged.

He realized then that he never gave Harry enough, even during sex. He always left it to Harry to tell him how much he needed him, wanted him. Draco wished he could look into his eyes, but now wasn’t the time. Harry wanted it this way, and he promised. He gritted his teeth against an early orgasm, but he was so damn close. He stroked Harry’s hair and pushed his face close to his chest. The sheer pleasure of his velvet heat combined with Harry’s arousal after everything he’d just been through was enough to make him blow right away. 

“I want you so much, baby. I need you all the time. You’re mine to fuck whenever I want.”

He felt Harry clutch his back tightly at that, his head rubbing Draco’s chest. He let up a bit to slide back on Draco’s cock faster.

“Oh god, yes, sir. Yours.”

Harry was moving faster over him, moaning loudly. He was starting to control the pace, but Draco didn’t mind because he couldn’t grab onto him anywhere, for fear of hurting his raw skin. Faster and faster he moved atop him and Draco was about to blow. He wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock with difficulty, as he was pressed so close, and he began to stroke.

“Oh yeah, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock. Such a good little whore.”

At the word ‘whore,’ Harry shrieked. Draco felt his inner muscles spasm around his cock and his hand fill with a viscous fluid. Draco immediately blew his load with a loud shout.

Harry lay boneless on top of him. He was keening with the effort to draw breath and shivering. Draco pet his hair and used his wand to clean the bathwater and fill the tub with warm water again.

“Feels so good, sir. You always make me feel so good.”

Draco’s eyes prickled because he believed that no longer to be true. He almost hurt him badly today.

“Let’s go take a nap pet.”

Draco helped him out of the tub and they went to bed. As he pulled the covers over them, he thanked merlin for his silk comforter because he knew it wouldn’t irritate Harry’s back. Harry wasn’t looking at Draco, focusing on his chest instead, stroking it softly. The collar was still on, and it would be for the rest of the weekend. Draco lay on his side facing him and lifted his chin, though Harry didn’t lift his eyes. His submission was threading into Draco’s heart like a shot of epinephrine. He kissed him sensually, for a long time.

“I love you so damn much.”

Harry blushed. “I love you too, sir.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this chapter inspired and credited fully to "Deviations: Submission" by Jodi Payne and Chris Owen. You'll have to thank them for such delicious scenery. It's exactly how I imagined our Savior to be. I hope you liked it. 
> 
> How's the story, so far? Should I continue?  
> Comment or kudos if I you'd like another chapter.


	8. How to Break Harry Potter

The next day, Draco woke up before Harry and observed his face, quite changed from the night before. He no longer had that clenched agonized look. His face was smoothed out into a peaceful expression, looking vulnerable and young. Draco wanted so badly to just take the collar off and coddle him forever. He couldn’t wait for Monday. He almost hurt his baby, and it was torture. He had slept like the dead almost the entire day yesterday. Draco had to wake up him up so he could have dinner, then he went right back to sleep. They barely spoke at all, and Draco was determined to dial it back. It was his fault, too much too soon. He left him sleeping and went down for breakfast.

Ten minutes later, Harry joined, looking relaxed, eyes down respectfully. The collar looked beautiful underneath the black silk robe he wore. 

“How’s your back baby?”

“Fine sir. I feel great…I do want to apologize in advance because you will see it eventually. I’m completely healed. My magic does that sometimes when the wound is a surface scratch, not magically inflicted.”

_Surface scratch?_ Draco was relieved he was completely healed, but also annoyed that Harry called what he did to him a mere scratch. The man was never going to learn at this rate. Still, though he may be able to handle it, Draco could not. He grabbed his hand on the table.

“Yesterday will never happen again, Harry. Not ever. Not even close.”

Harry shrugged, unconcerned.

“Let’s talk more about what you want out of this. So as I understand it, you like to be dominated with rough sex, verbal degradation, rope play. Is there anything else you like?”

Harry’s cheeks pinked.

“Well, sir, Sunday always makes me think of the kids, and that always makes me think of you and what a good father you are. Sometimes, I just want to call you daddy.”Harry coughed and continued quickly to hide his shame.

“I also don’t hate the idea of you choking me and fucking me at the same time. I think it’ll be hot, sir.”

Draco’s mouth twisted into a grin. He couldn’t believe Harry was harboring all these desires. He hadn’t the faintest clue about them. Then again, he was the bottom for most of their relationship.

“My, my, pet. You are a dirty boy, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. Very dirty.” He grinned.

“Now, tell me what you don’t like. What are you uncomfortable with?”

Harry thought it over, remaining silent a long time.

“I don’t know, sir. I’m willing to try everything and see.”

“I would think that the kangaroo flogger is something you’re not comfortable with.”

“Oh no, sir. That was my fault. I was actually hard in the beginning. Stings so good at first.”

Draco rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to slap his palm to his face.

“What if I put you in a cage? What if I took all your senses away and your ability to speak, then whipped you? Aren’t you still shaken up by yesterday? I almost hurt you baby.” He grabbed his hand.

“I’m not made of glass, sir. I don’t break that easily.”

It was Draco’s turn to flinch like he’d been hit by the kangaroo flogger. Harry couldn’t have realized how truly offensive that was. He had just insulted the very core of the Dom within him, in the worst way possible.

“Is that so?”

“Sir, trust me when I tell you that I can handle any challenge you have to offer.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure about that, pet?”

“Yes.Completely sure, sir. I don’t break.”

That was Harry’s ego talking. It seemed he didn’t learn his lesson yesterday, not truly. He never broke using his safe words, after all. He still thought he was the one in control. Draco knew just the way to break him and make him beg.

“We shall see about that, pet.” Harry shivered.

______________________________________________________________________

Draco led him to the bedroom that evening and commanded him to strip. Harry stood in the display position, his heavy cock hanging low.

“It’s so wonderful that my pet is so strong.”

Harry could tell in Draco's tone that it was anything but wonderful to him. 

“I want to make you happy, sir. Tell me how I can please you.”

“Well see, here’s the thing. I like control and you seem to have a bit of trouble giving it to me. So, I propose a challenge. One I’m sure you’ll be up for. If you succeed, I will give you the red collar, with your initials on it. It will be yours forever.”

Harry’s eyes widened to saucers and he actually stuttered as he spoke.

“The red...red collar…forever? Oh yes, sir. I promise that I won’t fail you. I can handle anything, any punishment, any torture.” He squared his shoulders and flexed, as if against an assault.

“That’s wonderful to hear and admirable too. Torture is on the agenda tonight, to be sure.”

Harry nodded confidently.

The thing is pet, not all torture is painful…The challenge is this. I’m going to give you the utter control over your own ability to orgasm this evening. I forbid you to do so. That’s a direct order. I’m going to go down on you. I’m going to fuck you and I’m going to have a wonderful time with your body. Let’s see how strong you really are.”

Harry’s eyes widened like a cartoon character and it was hard for Draco to stifle a laugh.

“And because I’m a merciful Master, I’ll even let you wear a cock ring to help you.”

Draco could bring Harry to orgasm in under two minutes if he wanted to. He needed to at least make him think that he had a fighting chance. They’d had experience with cock rings in the past, but Harry was always so sensitive to Draco’s ministrations. It helped, but marginally.

“You’ll control yourself—you’ll love it. Such control is to be admired, pet. Mind you, I’ll let you cum if you beg me nicely enough, and admit that you don’t have control—that control is mine.”

Draco casually began to undress, pretending not to notice the distress of his poor Harry. Tonight, it was he who wore a leather harness under his clothes. This was a more intricate one that left his cock free and crisscrossed all over his body, including his legs. The black paired erotically against his pale skin, and part of it went around his neck as well. Harry gasped when he was completed disrobed. He was already fully erect.

Draco grinned and strode forward to put on a cock ring.

“Oh pet…we haven’t even started yet. Take a deep breath. Now, I think this would work better on the bed. On your back if you’d be so kind.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry looked at the bed a moment as if it were the enemy and then climbed on top of it, rolling on his back lengthwise up the middle. He trained his eyes studiously on the ceiling.

Draco pounced. He curled along Harry’s side, one hand immediately massaging Harry’s cock as he he thrust his tongue into Harry’s mouth in a deep, claiming kiss. He growled for effect and rubbed himself shamelessly on Harry’s leg.

For a brief disoriented moment, Harry responded, pressing his cock into Draco’s fingers, opening his mouth wide. But then he recoiled at the first answering twitch of his prick. He puffed out a breath, went completely still and closed his eyes.

Draco moaned into his mouth and dragged his tongue down Harry’s jaw, biting at his neck.

“My boy, my beautiful boy,” he whispered, his hand still rubbing and massaging as he feasted on one tight nipple. Nipples were Harry’s most erogenous zone. His other hand found its mate and Draco made sure to turn up the volume on his own sounds as he tasted his pet. He was usually very quiet in the bedroom and he knew his noises drove Harry mad.

For long moments, Harry did nothing but breathe, taking in air and letting it out almost desperately, as if oxygen were his only defense. But even air, as necessary as it was, was no match for a Master’s touch, and Draco knew it.

“ _Oh, gods,”_ Harry groaned at last. It was a lovely, deep-chested sound of arousal and defeat, and his body arched to Draco’s attention.

“Mine,” Draco purred, feeling Harry harden more under his fingers. Not wasting time, and hoping to keep Harry confused and disoriented, he replaced his handwith his mouth, licking and sucking his cock with abandon. Harry started trembling.

“No, no, no…” Harry moaned and wined softly, pushing gently at Draco’s shoulder.

“Oh, fuck. No, please.” Harry squeezed his eyes shut and tensed as if not seeing would help.

“Oh, yes,” Draco countered with glee. He paused his assault, stroking his hard cock leisurely.

“Definitely yes, pet…such a pretty cock.” Without waiting for a reaction, he swooped down again, his tongue happily bathing Harry’s balls while his hand held the stiff shaft loosely.

Draco measured his success by the length of Harry’s frustrated moans. It seemed to go on and on, until Harry was forced to gasp for air. His resistance was wearing steadily. Draco finally let up for a moment.

“Let me suck you, sir. Please. I understand now. Let me focus on you again, and not myself.”

“Nice try,” Draco smirked. “But no. There’s a lesson here.”

He kissed Harry sensually, then dropped a kiss on Harry’s shoulder before reaching the night stand for lube.

“You’ll figure it out, I’m sure.”

Harry groaned. “I was afraid you’d say that, sir.”

“Poor tortured pet.” Draco sympathized. Then he flipped Harry over onto his belly and smacked his ass.

“Hands and knees, pet. Show me your assets.” Really, Draco was having too much fun.

Harry hissed at the slap and pushed up on his hands and knees obediently.

“My assets, sir?” he snorted. Draco gave his ass another smack as an answer while he smiled wide behind him.

He ran a finger down the crease of Harry’s ass and followed it with his tongue.

“Oh!” Harry gasped. Draco grinned to himself. This always drove Harry wild.

“Oh merlin, fucking hell. oh gods, no.” Harry shook and spread his legs a bit further. Draco could feel him try to resist the movement and his grin broadened, his tongue lapping delicately at its goal.

Draco took his time. He sent himself on an extended tour of Harry’s ass, traveling from tailbone to balls and back again use his tongue and lube slicked fingers. He slipped the tip of one finger into Harry and listened to him gasp, felt a shudder roll through his body, and bit lightly at one cheek.

“I love how tight your ass is pet,” he purred in his Dom drawl. He knew his voice drove Harry mad with lust.

“Taking your virgin ass was better anything I could’ve ever imagined and you’re still so tight.You fit around me better than anything, tighter than anyone I’ve had before. You move like music on me. Honestly, it’s a thing of beauty.”

Harry’s loud moan sent a vibration throughout his body. He was holding on better than Draco expected, though he was far from composed. He must really want that collar. Harry rocked away from the intrusion of Draco’s finger, presumably to protect his prostate. His panting and the slight sheen across his back and thighs gave him away as his body betrayed him.

“Ah, fuck,” Harry hissed and moaned, focused so singularly on his order not to come.

Draco removed his finger and dove in with his tongue again, pushing hard. He felt Harry drop down to his elbows, and Harry’s cry was muffled in the pillows. Draco ignored him and kept at it, licking around his hole and then pushing in, his hands spreading Harry’s cheeks wide. Between his own thighs, he could feel himself stiffen, the taste of Harry, the sounds he was filling the room with making Draco’s blood flow faster. He only hoped Harry would hold out long enough for him to actually start fucking him before he blew.

Harry pushed up on one arm and Draco could hear him better now. He was alternating harsh panting breaths with straining groans, and just as Draco was about to consider him too stubborn, he broke.

“No, no, I ca…I can’t…sir, Master, I,” Harry babbled at him, “Oh fucking hell, Master, I…Yellow! Yellow, fuck!” He sobbed out and choked on a gasp, coughing.

Draco rolled away, panting himself, but one hand was already reaching for the lube.

“Okay, pet. Stopped. Breathe for me, Harry. I’m listening.” He was lubing his hard cock as he spoke, his cock twitching hard as he thought about sinking into Harry’s sweet ass.

Harry panted harshly, sucking in air.

“Couldn’t fucking breath…ah…” he groaned and after two or three more breaths, he sighed.

“Okay better now.” He ran fingers through his sweaty hair and licked his lips.

“Oh, good,” Draco said, his voice dripping honey and he smoothed more lube on.

He shoved Harry’s hip and grabbed at the nearest leg as Harry rolled, smoothly hooking it over his own shoulder.

“Don’t forget I listen to begging,” he said with a smile, popping the lid on the lube again and making sure Harry saw it.

“Oh right, right.” Harry’s eye tracked Draco’s movements and he whimpered at the tube of lube. “Stand by, sir”

“But it has to be convincing,” Draco added with a grin. “And about control.” He slicked his fingers and erection slowly, deliberately. When he was utterly convinced he had Harry’s complete and undivided attention, he slipped two fingers into Harry’s body and began to move them just as slowly.

“I can do this for a long, long time, pet.”

“I can’t,” Harry admitted with a groan, tilting his head back in the pillows. “Oh, fuck.”

“That’s nice, baby.” Draco fingered him and began to stroke his cock in time. He watched as Harry moaned again, his hips rocking, and made a quick choice.

In a second, he swallowed Harry’s cock to the root, found Harry’s prostate with his finger and pushed it. Hard.

Harry screamed.

Harry’s hands flew over his head and gripped the rungs of the sturdy headboard, white-knuckled, and he arched his back hard.

“MASTER!” He shouted, “I have to cum, please God, let me cum! This is all you, you did this to me. I have no control, never did, don’t want it! Please, please please!”

Draco groaned. There was no way Harry was going to hold off for more than a moment or two, certainly not long enough for Draco to enter him. He lifted his head quickly and ordered,

“Cum.”

He pushed with his fingers, massaged the right spot, and watched as Harry began to cum, with his cock ring on. Some orders he had no issues with at all, apparently.

Harry burst into relieved tears, and they soaked his cheeks and mingled with his sweat. Draco drank in his body, his expression, as Harry’s hips jerked and his shoulders shook with the force of his climax. Long moaning sounds were forced from his lungs, proving without a doubt that he indeed had no control left, no fight, no will. When it was done, Harry collapsed back into the pillows, his arm flat beside his head. He was a lovely puddle, spent and panting, drenched with sweat and cum, moaning softly.

“Lovely, pet,” Draco whispered.“So amazing when you submit, when you give me what I need.”

Once more he draped Harry legs over his shoulders—he wasn’t even sure Harry knew what was going on as he pressed inside, his cock sliding past muscles that were now relaxed and giving.

Harry sighed and moved. He slid one of his hands down his body and covered Draco’s hand with it, giving it a light squeeze, but his eyes stayed closed and his body pliant as Draco took him.

“Want to be what you need, have no control, not with you, don’t want it, don’t need it, have to let go…” Harry was babbling, very in his sub-space, very willing, and oh, so very his.

“That’s good,” Draco whispered, stroking into him and then back out, the friction and heat exactly what he needed.

“Just let me take care of you, sweetheart. My boy, my perfect, sweet boy.”

He slid in once more, a slow languid thrust that stopped only when he was fully buried in Harry’s ass.

“So good,” Draco said again, watching Harry’s face as he moved faster and began to take what he wanted from the pliant body under his.

The praise had been well-placed it seemed, because Harry smile slightly, and blinked his eyes open.

“Master,” he gasped lightly, and his body began to come back to life.

With a low moan Draco increased his thrusts, his pace steady.

“I like the way that sounds, you know. God, you’re beautiful.” Inside Harry, Draco’s cock twitched, wanting more.

“Master? It’s…oh gods, that feels so good. It’s meaningful…with you…feels right to say it.”

Harry was already rising to the occasion again, enjoying Draco’s measured thrusts.

“Master,” Harry repeated the word, seemingly with no other purpose than for Draco to hear him say it. “My Master.”

Draco spent long minutes just moving like that, stretching it out as long as he could. Harry would occasionally push back in a counter motion that made Draco’s eyes roll and both of them laugh breathlessly. It was…fun. Draco took his boy, took his time, and took his own arousal higher.

“Soon, baby,” Draco warned, his breath coming faster and beginning to catch as his blood pounded his ears.

“Love to watch you cum, love the look on your face, the tension in your shoulders, love the sounds you make, Master,” Harry lowered his tone, making it husky and dark as he whispered to Draco,

“Fuck me. Master, fuck me hard, make me feel it, take me, have me…ah..yes, yes, yes.”

“Oh gods.”

Draco slammed into Harry, his rhythm stuttering. He could feel the growl build in his chest, couldn’t hold back his loud grunts as he felt his climax move through him. Harry continued whispering to him, dirty, dark begging words that pushed Draco past the point of no return. As he came, Draco leaned forward, almost bending Harry in two, so he could take Harry’s mouth into a deep kiss. His hips twitched and ground against Harry’s ass and his growling triumph was muffled against Harry’s lips until he had to lift his head and roar.

He was left panting and laughing softly, draped over Harry like a blanket.

Harry hugged him tightly against his body, smiling into his neck.

“You are truly evil, sir.”

Draco laughed, uproariously. It was Harry's favorite sound in the world. 

___________________________________________________________________________________________


	9. Office Interlude

The following Monday at work, Harry is a complete wreck. Draco removed the collar this morning and he’s felt disoriented ever since. It didn’t help that the the minute the collar left his neck, Dracofell to his knees and blew him like it was his punishment. In the break room, trying to find solace in coffee, he keeps touching his neck as if expecting the collar to magically appear again. He misses that pressure of leather, that restriction that somehow made him feel safe. He’s sickened when he realizes that he wouldn’t mind wearing it full time, in front of all his subordinates, in front of the Minister of Magic himself. What has he become? He grabs his own neck and squeezes.

“Harry, how goes it mate?”

Harry jolts and his coffee spills all over him, ruining his head auror robes.

“Better now, Ron, thanks.”

“It’s not my fault your head’s in the clouds today. You’ve been off all morning. You alright? We have a briefing with Shacklebolt in five minutes.”

_Shite._ Harry completely forgot about it. He magics his robes clean, grabs his files from his office,and heads to the conference room with Ron. Draco is already there, chatting up a young beautiful junior auror with blonde hair and blue eyes, an uncanny resemblance to his ex-wife. Harry flushes with heat all over and he’s actually afraid of the ocean of jealousy that swells up inside him. He tries to take a few deep breaths to calm himself, but it doesn't help. He bumps into Draco’s chair purposely as he walks by and sits at the opposite end, so that he can have a good view of him, but he doesn’t have the courage to look.Shacklebolt begins the meeting, but Harry’s hardly listening to a single word. His head is full of Draco— wielding the whip, torturing his body with pleasure, his fingers, his voice, his praise, the sheer joy of kneeling in front of him. There seems to be room for nothing else, and he stares in the general direction of Shacklebolt to make it seem like he’s listening. Finally, he chances a glance at his Master. Draco narrows his burning storm-grey eyes at him and instead of glaring hatefully back the way he always has, he finds he can’t hold his gaze. He lowers them to the table immediately.

“What do you think, Auror Potter?”

Harry shoots his eyes back to the Minister.

“I’m sorry, sir?”

“About the idea…”

“Idea for what, sir?”

He hears Draco chortle behind clasped hands and his cheeks flush with heat. The entire team of aurors are in this meeting. There must be 80 people in this conference, and Harry looks like a complete prat.

“Idea for building a prison outside of Azkaban, without dementors. The idea you’ve been trying to push through this entire year...it’s finally on the agenda.”

“Oh yes, sir, of course sir.”

Harry shuffles his papers around like an idiot, looking for his proposal. When he finally finds it, he could feel that his face is beet-red as he pathetically attempts to lay out his his proposal to the team. The meeting is pure torture and he’s so relieved when it’s over. Draco leaves first, seemingly in a rush, probably to chat up the junior auror behind his back.He feels stark-raving mad today, completely off-balance.He shakes his head at himself before he walks through the door of his office. When he steps in, the blinds are drawn, plunging his office in darkness. He’s sure he left the shades open when he left. He furrows his brows in confusion and closes the door behind him.

The minute the door closes, he hears it lock and the blanketing of a silence charm. Draco materializes from a dark corner and grabs Harry by the front of his robes, slamming him against the locked door. He thrusts his tongue in his mouth and kisses him like he means revenge. Harry is too shocked to do anything but respond. Draco is pulling off his robes like he hasn’t seen Harry in weeks. He can hardly breathe. His cock instantly fills with blood. Draco quickly unbuckles his belt, pushing his pants and boxers down, just enough to free his cock and expose his ass. Turning, he wipes his hand across Harry’s messy desk and all his papers, glass rewards, quills, and ink pots go crashing to the floor.Throwing Harry over the desk face first, he pushes him to lie fat on his belly, naked ass high and exposed. He hears the tell tale clank of Draco’s buckle being undone.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“Shut up, Potter. I didn’t give you permission to speak.”

He slaps his ass hard before casting preparation charms on him and enters him in one swift stroke. Harry groans. _Fuck,_ sometimes his cock feels monstrous inside, but oh, so good. He relishes the initial sting and the feeling of fullness. This is the only way he feels complete, and he can't believe he hasn't been insisting Draco top him all along. He begins pounding his ass mercilessly. No warm up. The rickety desk shakes underneath him. Harry tries hard to hold back his gasps and moans but he can’t. He’s gripping the edge of his desk for dear life, his cheek scraping against the wood with each of Draco’s punishing thrusts. He feels assaulted and he’s loving ever single filthy moment of it. As he tries to reach down to stroke his cock, Draco angles his cock directly on his prostate and a jet of precum spills forward.

“Oh, fuck,” Harry gasps.

Draco jerks and pulls him up by his hair so that his upper body is more upright, his back flush against Draco’s chest. Moving both hands to his neck, he squeezes as he fucks him on bent knees. As a reflex, Harry grips his wrist, trying to pull it free.

“I thought I said no talking, Potter. Such a bad pet. You’ll never learn, will you?”

Harry shakes his head, and swears he can hear Draco smiling. From this position, he can easily stroke his cock as Draco continues to fuck him and choke him, at once. Harry is already getting dizzy. Little spots are starting to form in his vision, and for reasons unbeknownst to him, it sparks the beginning of his climax.

“But you’re eager...You’re my eager little whore. Aren’t you? Such a filthy whore. And all mine.”

That’s enough for Harry to blow all over his desk with a strangled gasp. He would’ve roared his orgasm but Draco’s hands are still wrapped around his neck cutting off air, and suddenly, everything goes black.

____________________________________________________________________________

_Ennervate._

Harry jolts awake and slides off the desk. His pants are still undone so his ass meets the cold ground and causes him to wince. He quickly pulls his pants up and tries to stand up, but to no avail. He collapses back to the ground, hearing a chuckle. Draco is crouched besides him, immaculately dressed, not a hair out of place, as if he didn’t just fuck Harry’s brains out.

“You gonna live, Potter?” Harry wants to kiss his pale lifted eyebrow.

“Sweet merlin, Draco. You literally just fucked me unconscious.” And Harry starts laughing. He can’t stop himself. He can’t stop the pure unadulterated joy that’s swelling up. It continues until he hears Draco laugh with him. And _god,_ it’s like the sound of synchronized bells, just so fucking beautiful. He’s wasted for him. Draco begins to make strides to his door, without so much as a kiss, but before he leaves, Harry has to know.

“What was that for?”

“You kicked my chair.” He shrugs and departs his office.

______________________________________________________________________


	10. I'm Not Strong

Draco takes him on the desk and in the empty conference room and in the ministry locker rooms one night, when Draco skips his workout to lie there in wait. He uses him until he doesn’t know how Harry moves in the field. He gives him everything his body can—they’re often up all night—and Draco sleeps like the dead in twenty minute increments on the office couch Harry conjured for him.

It’s a glut of lust and satiation. Draco’s hard all the time. He wears too-tight briefs to keep his hard-on tucked away, and when he can, he shows him to supply closets and once, a stairwell. When there’s a department head meeting that Harry excuses himself from, Draco watches him leave the conference room from his open office door, and he has to have him. He has to fuck the mighty head auror, the _savior_ , before he returns to his important meeting with the most important people of government, including the minister of magic. He follows him into the men’s room and fucks him hard enough to rattle the stall door off its hinges. It’s almost a sort of self destruction, but he can’t stop.

Harry’s a stallion. Draco punishes him all night, and Harry works all day, somehow successfully managing eighty people in his command, ending each night with a rigorous workout at the gym. He’s ready every time he arrives at Malfoy Manor in the evening, often awake when Draco falls asleep.

The sex of three or four times a week from when Harry was a top seem like a distant memory. The minute Harry went down on his knees and called him “Master,”a dam of lust exploded inside Draco. Some days he wonders who the true slave is. It has to be him because he spends every minute of every day thinking of new and surprising ways to fuck Harry. His single responsibility is to please him and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He took each of Harry’s requests that first weekend he was in a collar as if they were the Ten Commandments, as if they were delivered by Merlin himself.

On a night several weeks after that fateful weekend of submission, Harry walks into Malfoy Manor, and Draco is waiting for him just besides the door. Hearing his flying motorcycle revving outside was enough to get him hard and leaking and flying to the foyer to surprise him. The minute the door closes, Harry doesn’t see Draco as he comes up behind him to slip the leather collar around his neck. He gasps as he’s pulled backwards by his collar and slammed against the door. The air exits his body in a rush, leaving him winded, and Draco has to devour him before he can catch another breath. He plunges his tongue in his mouth, holding his jaw open with one hand while his other hand works quickly to unbutton his trousers. The second his dick is out, he pushes him down to his knees and slaps his face hard with his cock... once, twice, again. The smacking sounds alone are enough to make him blow all over his face. 

"Open those cock-sucking lips for me, Potter." Harry immediately obeys and Draco shoves in deep enough to make him gag. The hot heat of his mouth is enough to make his eyes roll and he squeezes his fingers in his raven locks for leverage, pulling and pushing brutally, fully controlling the pace. Harry's mouth is just another hole for him to fuck, and he wants him to believe it. He knows it's what he craves. The back of Harry’s head bangs ominously against the door until tears stream down his face and he’s choking, hanging onto Draco's thighs for dear life. The savior of the wizarding world is on his knees getting throat raped by Draco Malfoy, loving every second of it. Loud thuds echo against Malfoy Manor's front door, and it's simply too much for Draco. He feels like he's in a dream when he cums down his throat in mere minutes, letting out a loud groan. Though gasping for air, Harry swallows it all with a smug look of satisfaction on his tear-stained face.

With the sound of clinking metal, Draco slips a leash from his pocket, hooking it onto the metal D ring of Harry’s collar, forcing him to crawl behind him. He’s a vision of hulking muscles bursting out of his red head auror robes, on his hands and knees, black collar squeezing around his neck. Draco doesn’t turn around to watch him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but he observes him in the mirror as they go up the stairs. Draco has to palm his cock through his trousers because the reflection is enough to get him achingly hard once more. He’s still grinning, even more so now, but his eyes are respectfully lowered as he follows Draco obediently. 

His play room is finally set up, and today, he’s got a new addition. A Saint Andrew’s cross glimmers dangerously in the center of the room. Draco wastes no time in restraining him to the X-cross by his ankles, wrists, and waist. Harry hugs the cross like it’s his lifesaver. With a flick of his wand, his auror robes are ripped from his body and he’s clutching the cross naked. Draco walks to his trunk to retrieve a small flogger.

“Good evening, pet, do you know why you’re being punished tonight?”

“No, sir.”

Draco cracks the whip on his ass once and Harry groans. His already erect cock oozes precum on the floor.

“Bad pet. Do you think I didn’t see you flirting with that gaggle of women in the atrium today? Tell me, does it feed your ego to have all these women panting after _the_ _savior?”_

_“_ No, sir, I have no ego. I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there.” 

But Harry did know he was there and did it purposely, in anticipation for this moment. Draco hasn’t put him in the collar in well over a week, as this past weekend was spent with the children at Grimmauld Place. Another crack of the whip, this time on his back.

“So you flirt with women behind my back, then. Is that it?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“You certainly will be. Ten lashes to get you nice and warm, pet,” his smooth commanding drawl causes Harry to squirt on the floor. 

“Yes, sir.”

Draco works the whip over him, sure to paint his entire back with red lines. He uses medium strength with the flogger, not wanting to hurt him, but still making each stroke count. He enjoys the view of the lines crisscrossing with his werewolf marks, long healed. He knows Harry’s limits now and knows exactly how to hurt him to make it feel so good, frequently checking around his front to make sure Harry’s still hard. He is hard, achingly so, and Draco is always shocked by how much Harry loves this. 

When it’s over, Harry is panting and leaking copiously from his cock, his death grip on the cross loosens and he goes limp. Without the restraints holding him up, he would’ve sank into a wasted pile of boneless limbs to the ground. He feels hands stroking his back and ass with cooling gel and sighs in relief. Draco dips a lube-slicked finger inside his hole to stretch him, probing his prostate, and he groans in response.

“No cumming for you tonight, pet. Or I will be very disappointed.”

After he’s amply stretched, Draco sinks to his knees and licks his crack with abandon. It’s not his usual slow tease, but an all out attack. He pushes his tongue inside, alternating between licks, sucks, and nibbles, holding his cheeks spread wide.

“Oh fuck, sir. Oh god, please,” his voice is strained, his muscles taut. 

Draco ignores him and continues relentlessly, for a long time, his head buried in Harry's ass, massaging his prostate with his fingers, while licking the rim. He suddenly maneuvers his body to sit at the foot of the cross, between Harry's legs, to swallow his cock down while pushing hard against his prostate. Harry screams. 

“Fuck! I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Please let me cum, sir. Please, fuck, I can’t hold it!...Yellow!”

Draco takes pity on the man and stops his assault, and Harry sags in relief. Standing up to pet his hair, Draco lubes his own hard leaking cock, squeezing the base painfully to bring himself under control. The sound of Harry’s moaning, begging, and submission is almost enough to make him blow. He has a cock ring on, but it’s not enough.

“There, there pet,” Harry’s face is soaked with sweat and maybe tears, Draco can’t tell, but he strokes his cheek lovingly. “Tell me what you need.”

“I need you inside...Fuck me hard...Make me feel it.” It's a breathy pleading whisper that shoots straight to his cock. Draco turns to grip his dick firmly, out of Harry's line of vision. He almost just blew again.

“Do you think you deserve my cock, pet? After acting like the world’s whore?” Draco speaks with his back to him. 

“No, sir…please, forgive me, I didn’t see you. I only live to please you. I’m only a slut for you.” his voice cracks at the end and he hangs his head low. It’s enough for Draco to concede. He slips a cock ring around Harry who lets out a squeak as Draco pulls his balls through, none too gently. "Remember, no cumming without my permission." 

He lines himself up behind Harry and breaches his entrance carefully, fucking into him at an agonizingly slow pace. Any faster and it's going to be over sooner than he wants. He reaches around to stroke Harry’s cock in time. This slow fuck is pure torture for Harry, who’s edging right at the brink of his orgasm the entire time, begging to cum throughout. He's mewling like a tortured animal. Occasionally Draco speeds up and once he feels that Harry is about to blow, he withdraws completely and squeezes the base of Harry’s cock painfully to stave off his orgasm. Once he’s sure Harry won’t cum, he restarts his torture, working inside him once more. He angles forcefully at his prostate now, stroking his cock faster.

“Oh god. Please, sir. I can’t take it anymore. I have to cum. I'm sorry. Please, please, please.” he sobs out, then continues with something he promised himself he wouldn’t say.

“I knew you were there, sir. I did it only so you could see. I do everything for my Master. Because I want you all the fucking time. Please let me cum,” he gasps.

Draco smiles, knowing the truth, but waiting for Harry to admit it. He needs to admit that every step he takes is with his Master in mind and that he has no control over himself, no desires of his own, but to please him.

“Cum.”

Immediately, Harry shoots his load all over the floor with a harsh cry, tears streaming down his face. It’s enough to pull Draco’s own orgasm out of him. It rips viciously through body with a hoarse roar. He may have intended to torture Harry, but it was no less torture for him to hold out. Leaning his head against his back for a few moments, trying to catch his breath, he withdraws and his cum splatters the ground, dripping from Harry’s hole.

Casting a weightless charm on Harry, he magics his restraints sway, sweeping him up in his arms and taking him to the bedroom. Harry is still gasping for air, soaked in sweat,breaking out into occasional shivers. Sometimes, he forgets how sensitive his Harry is to all this stimulus. He doesn’t seem to desensitize with time. Every time Draco slips the collar on him, it ends with his tearful orgasm. And each one is as delicious to Draco as the last. His arms are swinging like dead weight before Draco places him gently in the bed and pulls the cover over them. After a few long minutes, Harry’s breathing starts to even out. He doesn’t look up at Draco because he’s not allowed to,and he doesn’t want to. It's almost humiliating how Draco reduces him to a crying pile of sated mush, every single time he has this damn collar on. 

Meanwhile, Blaise is still his, more than he is. Fresh tears spill over. Draco strokes his cheek and leans forward to kiss him gently.

“Are you alright, pet?”

Harry manages a nod. He knows he should speak, but he can’t. Thinking of Blaise after all the adrenaline from their emotional fuck causes a dam of tears to break forth and he’s shocked to find that he’s suddenly sobbing. Draco is dismayed and unbuckles the collar from his neck, throwing it aside.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Was it too much for you?”

Harry shakes his head and turns over, his back to Draco. This is the man Harry loves so fucking much it hurts, the man he wants to marry, the man he lets use his body day and night, yet he still belongs to someone else on paper. Usually he can suppress these feelings, but tonight he can’t.

Draco can’t order him to turn back around and tell him what’s wrong with the collar off, but he suspects he knows, in any case. He’s wracked with guilt but hasn’t had time to find Blaise a new Dom, too busy fucking Harry eight ways from Sunday in his new play room and on every surface he could manage. He strokes his arm lovingly.

“Do you know how much I love you, Harry?”

Harry shrugs.

Draco sighs, hardly knowing what to say. He’s been avoiding the contract situation because he knows it’s going to be a horrifically unpleasant task that’s going to bring up a lot of suppressed emotion from both he and Blaise. And for no reason. The sub has no power in the contract, except for the ability to break it. That stupid contract means absolutely nothing and he doesn’t understand why Harry won’t let it go. Being committed to him in every way should be enough. He sees how Draco burns for him every single day. He would never cheat on him.

Draco feels like the villain in this scenario and it vexes him. Nothing unpleasant happened between he and Blaise when he started fucking Harry. He just strayed because he couldn’t resist, because he was weak. After twenty years of unwavering friendship and loyalty, Blaise didn’t deserve that. At the very least, he had the right to be informed, but Draco lied about it the entire time. Blaise was always perfect for him in every way, the perfect friend, lover, vacation partner, and the perfect submissive. He may have outed him in the end, but that was only in response to Draco’s shameful betrayal. He loved Draco, painfully, probably as much as Harry did, and Draco knew in his heart he didn’t deserve either one of them. Now, he was expected to hurt him again.

He stares at Harry’s red-striped back silently willing him to understand how much he loves him and to turn around. When that doesn’t work, he reaches for his wand with the purposes of healing him, thankful that the collar is off and he’s allowed to do so. Waving his wand, he heals him with a nonverbal spell, causing Harry to flip around suddenly and grab his wand wrist, squeezing hard.

“Why the fuck are you healing me?” His voice is livid and low, his face streaked with tears. Draco flinches back, not understanding why he’s so upset. He was just trying to ease the pain.

Ripping Draco’s wand from his hand, he throws it on the ground besides the bed and jumps to go to the shower, slamming the door behind him and locking it. Clutching his face in his hand and sighing, Draco goes to join him and smooth things over. The door is locked and _Alohamora_ doesn’t work.

“Harry?”

When he doesn’t answer, Draco fiddles around his drawer looking for the master key to Malfoy Manor. He has to shake the door until it finally catches and pushes in slowly. He finds Harry in the shower with his forehead against the wall, his broad shoulders heaving. Draco steps in and touches his shoulder; it feels goose-bumped, slicked in cold sweat.

“Sorry,” Harry says. It’s more like a gasp.

Draco hesitates for just a second before wrapping his arms around him. His back muscles tremble, cool, and thick against his chest.

“I’m…not strong,” he rasps.

“What do you mean?”

Harry doesn’t answer, so Draco comes around in front of him. His head is bowed. He moves between him and the shower wall and pulls him against his chest, wraps his arms around him. _Shit, my Harry._ He’s so fucking still and heavy. Draco runs his fingers through his hair, holding him tight.

  
“I’m…not strong,” he whispers.

Draco has to struggle not to laugh at such a fallacy. This was the bravest, strongest man he’s ever known, the savior.A hulking pile of huge muscles, strong enough to walk straight to his death for the good of mankind.

“Yes, you are. You’re too strong.”

A little shiver starts to tremble through him. He just stands there, locked in his arms, and Draco feels so fucking helpless, he could drive a fist through the wall.

“I’ll do it Harry. I promise I’ll do what you need. This week.”

He lifts his head, his glazed eyes reaching for Draco’s. He presses his lips together, bringing both of his dimples out. “I love you.” 

Cool relief spins through Draco. “I love you too.”

Draco kisses his sad mouth. They start slow and soft, but Draco can feel him quaking again—this time from desire. Soon they’re wrenching apart, gulping air. Harry shoves him against the shower wall, kissing like he means revenge as he strokes his cock so good that Draco has to grip the rail for support.

“I’m gonna cum,” Draco groans out.

Harry bites his throat. “Good.”

________________________________________________________________________________


	11. Borrowed Time

Draco vows to not put Harry in the collar for a long time after that night. He’s never seen him react so emotionally after a scene. Knowing it’s mostly about the contract doesn’t sway him. He believes that Harry is not in the right headspace to endure Dom/sub play.In response, Harry begins acting out at work again, flirting more heavily with women both on the DMLE floor and in the atrium, even when Draco is not around. He’s a glutton for punishment but Draco’s not biting. His flirting is so overdone that word gets back to him about it through the grapevine.

“What the fuck is going on with you, Potter?” Draco asks one night over dinner.

Harry doesn’t even try to deny it. “You know what I want.”

Draco sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes.

“You’re not in the right emotional state to endure the collar, Harry. For the hundredth time, I’m not comfortable with it after what happened the other night.”

Harry lets his fork clank loudly against his plate.

“And I told you that it had nothing to do with the scene. I enjoy being that for you, more than you could possibly understand. I would wear the collar day and night, in front of Shacklebolt himself. I’m not strong enough to deal with the fact that your contract with Blaise is still holding. I want to be the one with the contract. You promised me it would be gone last week, yet here we are two weeks later. You tell me I’m the one you love, yet you deny me this, and now you won’t even play. You spent gallons of galleons on a playroom that you won’t even let us use.”

“And you think humiliating me by flirting with every woman in the ministry is going to get you what you want?”

“It’s worked before.”

Draco is on the verge of exploding. He could hit him, actually throw a punch at him. He was trying to control him again, force his Dom out by inciting his jealousy. Harry could never be a true submissive, not without the collar anyway. The only thing he knew how to be was an enormous pain in his ass, and he considers telling him as much, but he doesn’t want to make things worse. He decides to come at him in a different way. He intentionally lowers his voice and softens it.

“Are you cheating on me with a woman? Just tell me the truth, Harry. I can handle it.”

Harry scoffs, incredulous. “Don’t be fucking ridiculous, Draco.”

“I know you’re not gay. I never catch you looking at blokes, but I constantly catch you looking at birds.”

“That’s because I know it bothers you the most.”

Draco is mid-sip with his wine, when he slams it back down on the table hard enough to break. Harry startles. Glass explodes everywhere, and wine stains the tablecloth.Throwing his napkin on the table, he pushes his chair back with a loud scrape, and leaves the dining room.

He could kill him. The only thing he wants to do is ring his pompous little neck until his head detaches from his body. _Fucking prat._ Purposely trying to make Draco miserable. He storms into the parlor, pouring a generous helping of firewhiskey and takes it down like a shot. He pours another and sits down, staring at the fire broodingly. 

He senses Harry inching slowly in the room, but he doesn’t look up. Finally, he sees him kneeling in front of him and he goes to grab Draco’s hand. Draco wants to recoil from the touch, but he can’t. That’s how wasted he is for Harry. He can’t let him feel rejected for a single minute. He’s trained, like an animal, to not hurt him, even his body betrays him. His touch, the sound of his name from Harry’s lips, is enough to give his heart a little kick. Meanwhile, Harry is going out of his way to hurt Draco as effectively as possible.

“Draco,” his heart jolts. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry concedes.

“For what?”

“I…I don’t know. For flirting, I guess. I know it’s a stupid way to get you to do what I want. But you have to believe that it’s not to hurt you. The only time I feel truly alive and yours is when I have the collar on. That’s when I feel like I’ve got you. I know that’s sick, but it’s true. I’m just…scared to lose you, alright? That contract seems like a fail-safe in case things fall through with us.”

“The contract means nothing, Harry. It’s all in your head. And I don’t get it. We fuck like four times a day, without the collar. I don’t hear you complaining then.”

“Hey, you’ll never hear me complaining about getting fucked multiple times a day.” He hopes to get a small smile out of Draco, but his face is like stone.

“I know you think that the contract means nothing, but it bothers me, and I’m asking you as your partner, as your lover, please.”

Draco sighs deeply. He couldn’t put this off forever, and he’d be damned if he let this tear them apart.

“Fine. I’ll talk to Blaise this week, Wednesday, at the country club.”

“What, face to face?”

Draco just stares at him like he has a screw loose.

“Yes. That is usually how people communicate.”

Harry stands up and turns his body, crossing his arms. “Can’t it be done by owl?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll come with you.”

Draco sighs again, exasperated.

“Yes, that sounds like a lovely idea. Perhaps we can recreate the the great duel of 1945 between Dumbledore and Grindelwald while we’re at it. Blaise will be happy to break the contract then.”

Harry tuts. “As if he has a standing chance against me. I’ll have him hanging by his toenails before he gets a curse out.”

“No one stands a chance against you, Harry.” Draco’s tone is sincere and it catches Harry off-guard. Draco blushes when he realizes the significance of his words.

“Was that a compliment?”

“Shut up, Potter. As if you don’t know.”

As if he didn’t know he was probably one of the most powerful wizards living. Every day his power grew. He could do every spell nonverbally, just like Dumbledore.

“I don’t, but it’s nice to hear you say it.” He grins and pulls at his belt loop to bring Draco closer and embrace him. Draco’s heart catches when he plants a soft kiss on his mouth. Harry pulls away slightly and strokes his lips with his calloused thumb, his green eyes sparkling behind his round glasses, staring up into his face.

“God, you’re beautiful…I can’t imagine anyone letting you go.” He kisses him again as Draco’s cheeks suffuse with heat. “And that blush...”

“Rose colored glasses,I think.”

Harry turns him roughly and drags him to the long mirror in the parlor to see his reflection. 

“There’s no one more beautiful than you.”

Draco looks at the reflection, but he’s not looking at himself, he’s looking at Harry. His jade colored eyes shine with love and adoration, and they look so perfect standing next to each other, a beautiful confluence of light and dark, that Draco feels a physical ache. He can hardly look because the pain is making it harder to breathe the longer he stands there. He marches Harry right up the stairs and promptly removes all his clothing. He takes his time with him that night. Making love to him face to face, he kisses him throughout, staring into his eyes. When he cums, it’s with a prayer of love on his lips.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

When Tuesday evening arrives, he tells Harry he’ll meet him at Grimmauld Place the following night. He doesn’t like the idea of him pacing around Malfoy Manor, probably destroying everything in sight. He avoids Harry for most of Wednesday because he’s trying to get his head right for the conversation with Blaise. Harry might be a bit bothered, but he’ll just cloud his mind, and he needs a clear head. It’s with a sinking feeling of dread that he readies himself to go to drinks that night. Blaise was only too happy to accept the invitation. He hopes he’s not coming into this with false hope.

Blaise’s eyes light up when he sees him in his perfectly fitted grey ensemble. Draco’s wearing light grey plaid trousers, a white collared shirt, and a fitted matching vest with a silver pocket watch. The chain hangs out of the pocket making him look extremely posh. There was a strict dress code at the Wizarding Country Club and he never passes up a chance to flaunt his style. They shake hands and order drinks. They chat for a while about work and sports. Blaise asks after Scorpius. They’re three drinks in when Blaise mentions it.

“So, how’s the boyfriend?”

“Fine. How’s Pansy?”

“Draining my vaults. You never told me a wife was so expensive.”

Draco chuckles and Blaise looks pleased at the sound.

“Listen Drake, it’s none of my business, but Harry is making a right spectacle of you. His love of birds is running rampant in the rumor mills. I’m honestly a little surprised you’re allowing it.”

Draco squares his shoulders, uncomfortable with the direction of conversation.

“I’m just worried is all. One of the unspeakables who works with me said he was all over her. The guy is making a fool of you, publicly. I just don’t see you tolerating that.”

Trying hard not to let his anger show, Draco tries to dissuade him from the topic.

“Harry isn’t on the agenda tonight, Blaise. I came to talk about you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking, I have a lot of connections in the BDSM world, I can get you together with the right kind of Dom.” Blaise raises his eyebrows.

“Trying to get rid of me Drake?” Draco flushes.

“It’s not like that between us anymore, Blaise. And I for one would like nothing more than to see you happy. Let me at least make some introductions for you. Maybe, you’ll meet someone new that you like, someone better than me, someone…you could sign a contract with.”

The conversation goes dead. Blaise leans back in his leather chair with his hand cupping his chin, staring at Draco’s expression. Not for the first time, he curses their long friendship because he knows Blaise can see right through him.

“So you remember.”

Draco answers with a sigh, then, “I do.”

“I assumed you’d forgotten all about it. Now that you remember, let me refresh you on the terms of our contract. It’s for life.”

“I’m not fulfilling my contractual obligations. I’ve been a right prick to you. Don’t you think it’s better that you release yourself from the contract so that you’ll be free to choose someone you can actually be with. Someone who could make you happy.”

Another tick of silence. Blaise narrows his eyes at him.

“That’s why you’re here. To get me to break it.” Blaise chuckles. “Nice try Draco, but no, I’d really rather not. You’ll realize why in due time.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

Blaise gives him a sad smile. “Listen, I’ve been your best mate for twenty years so I expect to be able to speak frankly with you. I think I deserve that much after everything we’ve been through. I’m surprised I even have to tell you this. Your little interlude with Potter is adorable and all, but you know, as well as I, that you’re on borrowed time.”

_Borrowed Time._ The phrase rolls around in Draco’s head, echoing and multiplying. Draco tries to ignore it by studying his fingernails. “I don’t want to talk about Harry.”

Blaise slams his firewhiskey down.

“I bet Potter is the only reason you’re here in the first place, so we will talk about him. What’s the matter with you? Have you lost your marbles? You’re far too different from him, Draco. He doesn’t understand social etiquette and we both know how important that is to you. You guys aren’t the right match. It’s not going to last and, deep down, you know it. How long will you continue to live in denial? This isn’t like you.Maybe you’d have a fighting chance if it wasn’t so obvious that Potter’s cheating on you.”

“You don’t know that. And it’s not your concern.”

“I do know that. Pretty much everyone knows that except for you. I’m ashamed of you for letting this slip. Why should I give you up to someone who can’t keep his dick in his pants? It fucking hurts me to see it. I tried to convince myself to be happy for you at first. Then, when I heard all this stuff about him…I couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe you. That arrogant codswallop is who you chose over me?I’ve been loyal and devoted to you for two decades and you think I’m going to sacrifice you to the bloody chosen one after he’s been on your radar a few months? Someone who doesn’t honor you the way you deserve? You’re mad.”

Gearing up to defend Harry, the words get choked in his throat. He wants to explain how much they love each other. He wants to tell him that Harry loves him so much that he’s begging to submit to him every night. That his flirting is just a means to an end. He tries again, but he could scarcely draw breath. Blaise is touching his Achilles heel. Sensing his struggle, Blaise begins to feel guilty.

“Listen Drake. I’m sorry. I know I’m out of line but the problem is, you have no other friends to tell you when things are fucked up. Best case scenario, he’s not cheating on you, but he’s making you a laughing stock. I know you’ve always had a crush on the guy, but you’re better than this. You’re the best man I know.”

Draco is still silent. He doesn’t know what his facial expression is, but it must be something truly pitiful because Blaise relents.

“I wouldn’t mind being introduced to a few Doms. People I could trust, that’s fine. I appreciate the gesture.”

Draco lets out a long breath. “That’s all I’m asking.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

Harry feels jittery when he comes home from work Wednesday evening. Draco’s been avoiding him all day, and he’s wracked with worry. It’s been weeks since Draco’s not been in front of him at every turn, to pull him into a supply closet or just to joke around. He doesn’t seek him out, sensing that he needs his space. It’s torture to stay away when Draco is in one of his brooding moods, but he knows he needs it. He can’t stop the visions of Blaise tied up being reamed by Draco from behind. No longer needing to jump in the pensive, it’s as sharp in his mind as if he were there. That’s his own fault. But he needs to tamper down his jealousy. It bothers Draco more than anything and he’s the one who asked for this. Draco was trying his hardest to avoid Blaise, and he knows he doesn’t feel anything for him. Confident in Draco’s love for him, he knows he’s only doing this for Harry’s sake, but Blaise is a manipulative bastard. He couldn’t rule out the possibility of him bent over, moaning in ecstasy as Draco fucks him. It could be happening at this very moment. Maybe that’s why Draco avoided him all day, to have a clear conscious. Harry shakes his head at the thought. Draco wouldn't do that, but if he could’ve just seen him today…

He changes into gray sweats and an old, torn, Gryffindor T-shirt and sets up camp on the half-heart couch, pulling out a quidditch magazine to get his mind off him. He doesn’t want to be up in the bedroom, waiting. It makes him think of his blond-haired naked body bathed in moonlight on his duvet. The couch is danger too. Draco’s fucked him on it numerous times. Even the kitchen bothers him. One night, when Harry was getting frazzled over cooking an Alfredo pasta, Draco pulled him down and fucked him right on the kitchen floor. Eased his tension well enough then, but it only makes him think of his limitless libido now.Every hour he doesn’t show up ratchets up his tension.

And then it’s 9:45. There’s firewhiskey in the cabinet. Of course. He should have thought of it before, but he rarely ever drinks unless Draco’s offering.He takes the bottle to the couch and takes long pulls from it until he’s able to to lie back without his heart racing. Still restless, though. He gets up and walks to the front window. _Why can he still feel it?_

More to drink. Less to feel.

The half a heart couch. Harry laughs at that.

At first, Harry doesn’t realize that the clomps he hears are footsteps. Then, Draco’s right in front of him, an apparition, immaculate from head to toe. He looks like he stepped off a runway in France, and Harry can’t stand how beautiful he looks.

“Harry?” His feline grey eyes are wide, his perfect Draco face troubled. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Harry puts a hand over his face. _Fuck him._

“Nothing happened, Harry. It was just drinks. Is it because we didn’t talk at work?”

“It’s because—“ Harry fumbles for the bottle. “Firewhiskey. When there’s firewhiskey…you gotta do it.”

Draco kneels by the couch. A sad smile twists his lips.

“I can tell, now,” he says softly. “I can see it when you’re lying.”

Harry laughs—tries to. “I’m not fucking lying, Draco. I don’t give a shit if we talk at work or not.”

Draco looks somber.

“Any luck?”

“I got him to agree to meet some contacts.”

Harry takes a swig of his bottle. He wants to tell Draco that it wasn’t going to help, that Blaise would never let him go, but even just saying it in his head is enough to make him light-headed with misery. He tries to stand because he can’t look at Draco’s perfect body crouched beside him a second longer. He gets up and the room tilts. He’s drunk. Draco wraps both his arms around him. His lips press against Harry’s hair. When he draws back, Draco captures his hand.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Draco feels ill with remorse. For how thoughtless he’s been, how unforgivably dense. He shouldn’t have ignored Harry all day. Blaise’s manipulative efforts vanished from his mind the minute he saw Harry in his sad state. The confident, strong savior that grabbed him in the ministry locker rooms to kiss him for the first time all those months back to “know what it’s like”—this guy whose hand he’s gripping right now _isn’t him._

He should have noticed the minute he fell to his knees. Sometime between the snowy cabin and now—Harry changed.

Draco is so changed himself—so wasted for him, years on end now—all his focus is on staunching his own wounds. He’s not looking past himself.

Today, he feels nearly sick over the thing he can’t do for him, over his lingering issues with Blaise. Over the reassurances he can never seem to give him. His cold exterior and brooding nature are warring on him. He’s worried Harry is going to get tired of this. When he leaves, he’ll have a gaping hole to patch up, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to. Thing is, he doesn’t care anymore.

They get upstairs and Draco leads Harry to the bathroom and runs the tub. Harry looks tired and still seems quiet, as if the alcohol has flattened him—or Draco has. The water runs while they stand by it, not thinking to use their wands.

“Harry.”

Their eyes meet. Draco pulls his hand to his chest.

“Harry, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Harry quips, reminiscent of the previous night when Draco asked him the same thing.

Draco wraps his arm around his his neck, pulling him up against his chest, where he needs him. He leans on the on the shower’s glass wall and folds himself around him. He feels so good against him. Draco rubs his hand down his back.

“I know I messed up today. I should’ve talked to you.”

Harry’s cheek’s pressed against his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

_“_ Don’t lie to me, Harry.”

“Okay Draco.” Harry’s glazed eyes find his. “What do you want to hear? You were a dick. But it didn’t piss me off today. It fucking scared me.”

Draco shuts his eyes. He pulls him against his chest again, tucks his chin over his head.

“I don’t get how you don’t hate me sometimes.”

“Now who’s lying?” Harry whispers.

Draco sucks in air through his nose and Harry kisses his throat.

“I could never hate you.” Harry’s arms come around him, his hand rubbing his back.

He should hate him. This was the world’s darling who fell to his knees in front of him, a vile deatheater, a brooding half-man. And he can’t even shuck an ex for him.

But Draco feels the truth of his words. For whatever reason, Harry can’t wall him out, not for all his faults or mistakes. He doesn’t know if he’s not able to or if he chooses not to. But Harry’s open to him—open _for_ him—all the time. Like a boxer with his hands down. So it’s up to Draco to take care of him. He has to be better now.

They kiss, so long and soft and slow, and then they’re twined together. Draco brushes his lips over his cheek.

“I don’t deserve you.”

__________________________________________________________________________________


	12. Paris Pains

From the very beginning of their outed relationship, Draco convinced Harry to limit his public displays of affection to non-working hours. Professionalism at work was non-negotiable. They got enough attention as it is, and Draco often felt an undertone of incredulous anger from some of his fellow aurors. It didn’t bother him, as they were never chums to begin with, but it did make him temper his impulses. He was always sure to sit far away from Harry in conferences, treating him with the same indifference as always. He knew Harry was secretly hurt by this, but he never complained, much to Draco’s relief. Harry initially thought that because they were publicly outed, they wouldn’t have to hide at work, but Draco insisted, counting on their after-hours activities and secret work trysts to be enough.

Outside the DMLE floor, Draco was often ogled at by ministry employees in the atrium, no doubt wondering what nefarious methods he used to lure the savior away from his wife and into his cold deatheater arms. They barely registered on Draco’s radar, but he supposed he was just too used to a life of secrecy to change his ways.

Yet, when he caught sight of Harry standing at the end of a long line for lunch, he was suddenly seized with a novel desire to approach him. Without his outer robes, his pert ass stuck out lusciously from his tight auror uniform. It was noon and the atrium was bustling with the lunch crowd. Usually a time Draco would pretend that Harry didn’t exist, but he couldn’t help sliding up behind him, leaving only an inch of space between them.He looked around, but no one was paying them any mind, so he leaned close to Harry’s ear. Harry shuddered, knowing who it was, but he didn’t turn around.

“No robes today, Auror Potter? Your…assets are on display, and so tempting.” he said in his low slow drawl. Harry shivered in response.

He almost jumped when he felt Draco’s hands on his shoulders. This was the first time he touched him in public at work. Pleased with his sensitive response, Draco slid his hands medially, very slowly, until he was lightly grasping the base of his neck. He leaning closer to his ear, his voice softening to a whisper.

“Seems like my pet is just begging for a spanking. Makes it hard not to…”

“Get a room!”

Draco startled and release him, stepping away quickly.He turned to see Blaise storming past them and resented him for his outburst which caused several heads to turn. Embarrassed, Draco turned on his heel and walked with his usual measured pace to the stairwell to go back to his office.

Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock and Harry entered, eyes downcast. Draco felt the blanketing of a silence charm and the door lock.He immediately fell to his knees, arms behind his back, eyes to the floor, seemingly waiting for Draco’s orders. Fighting a grin, Draco stood and walked closer to circle him like a predator. Stopping in front of him, he crouched low.

“Look at me, pet,” he said, raising Harry’s face with a finger under chin. Harry’s grass green eyes were already darkening.

“Ask me for what you want.”

Harry squirmed but remained silent.

Draco released his chin and stood up, walking to a window. He lookedout at the bustling streets of London, conjured magically, as they were underground.

“If you don’t learn to ask for exactly what you want, you will not get it, pet.”

“But we’re at work. It’s embarrassing.” Harry whispered.

“Sir,” Draco reminded him with a feral grin.

Harry suddenly wondered if he’d gone mad, kneeling on the floor with his hands clasped behind him in front of this complicated man who had a body as sleek and muscular as a panther. He always fantasized about play in the office, but Draco always forbade it, and the reality was far more jarring than the fantasy. With the collar in the bedroom, it was easy to transform into sub Harry, but this was different. His head auror uniform was straining from being in a kneeling position and he was reminded that they were in the middle of a work day. They often had sex at work, but it was always initiated by Draco, and they never played without the collar. A dangerous glitter in Draco’s eyes reminded him of his lapse.

“Sir, it’s embarrassing,” Harry said earnestly. He wished he was wearing his collar; it made him feel brave.

“Then you don’t want it enough,” Draco said dismissively. “You may go.”

Harry squirmed desperately; if he didn’t ask now he might never get the courage to make this leap into being a true submissive, outside the collar.

He took a deep breath, and blushing awfully, he managed to whisper, “Sir, would you please…spank me?”

“What have you done to deserve a spanking?” Draco teased.

Harry looked dismayed. “I don’t know sir.”

“Perhaps I’ll just spank you because I feel like it then.”Draco said silkily. He sat in the armless straight chair Draco reserved for guests. “Stand up.”

Harry rocked backwards and seamlessly stood into perfect display pose.

“Oh, very nice, Pet. Have you been practicing?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, embarrassed that his cock was already tenting his trousers in the most obvious way. Draco’s lips twitched when he noticed it, but he preserved his severe expression. He grabbed his waistband, sliding his fingers inside, pulling Harry closer to stand at his right.

“And now,” Draco said, his husky voice drawling out the words slowly and deliberately, “I’m going to take your trousers down and put you over my knee and give you a real ass warming. Obviously you need a good spanking, and you’re due one, my pet. Have you anything to say to that?”

“Please…sir…please,” Harry whispered incoherently. He was so excited he was trembling. The minute he felt those warm hands on his neck in the atrium, this window of opportunity opened and he wasn’t going to let Blaise or anyone else, take it from him.

Draco reached out and slowly unbuttoned his top button and slid the zipper down, relishing the little hiss of metal. The pants fell to Harry’s knees, allowing his cock to rise even higher, confined only by his plaid boxers.

  
Harry thought he might pass out from anticipation as warm fingers inserted themselves into the elastic waistband of his boxers, sliding around his waist before pulling the boxers down to his knees.

Draco pulled him over his knees by his arms, tipping him over to arrange him so that his ass was presented high in the air, with Harry’s head down by the floor, his feet off the ground, so he could get no leverage to push himself up. He pinned Harry left arm between their bodies and grabbed his right wrist twisting it up behind him and holding it at the small of his back.

Harry squirmed, feeling both humiliated and excited. Draco had not touched his cock, but when he guided Harry’s body down, he had trapped it with his muscular thighs. The rough tweed of his trousers rubbing his cock as Harry pumped his hips slightly was almost enough to push him over the edge.

“Ten swats, just enough to warm you up…Remember, I’m spanking you for my pleasure. And I will spank you whenever I like,” Draco announced.

“Yes, sir,” came a muffled voice from close to the floor.

Without any warning, Draco’s hand cracked down on his ass, hard, and Harry yelped in surprise.

“Ow!”

“Yes, did you forget spankings hurt, pet? You haven’t received a true spanking in quite some time,” Draco said calmly, surveying the lovely handprint he’d left on Harry’s right cheek. He wondered if the environment of his office was making him more sensitive to his spanks than the flogger in the playroom.

His hard hand swatted Harry’s left cheek firmly, and he watched as the rounded flesh flattened for a moment, before bouncing back into shape. Draco felt his own cock stir. Never daring to take such liberties at work didn’t mean he didn’t think about it. This was even more exciting than he had fantasized it would be, and he wondered why he didn’t do it sooner. The sight of Harry’s incredibly beautiful body squirming over his lap, the head auror insignia on his back, ass reddened with two symmetrical handprints, made him harder than he’d been when he fantasized about it. He must really remember to thank his lover for this exquisite pleasure. Just when he thought his love for him had reached its upper limit, he found the ceiling rising to accommodate more.

His hand came down again and again. Draco was working his hand all over his bottom, even in the crease at the top of his thighs when it really stung. Harry kicked reflexively as Draco swatted him on a particularly tender spot. When the tenth swat had been administered, he relaxed over Draco’s knee, thankful it was over.

Harry sighed in relief as the hard hand that had punished him began to stroke his heated skin, soothing away the sting that had flagged his erection. He was aware of the throbbing warmth of his backside starting to flow towards the front, and his cock slowly filled again.

Draco tipped him off his lap onto the floor, before pulling Harry up to sit on his knees, his sore bottom hanging safely off his thigh. He wrapped his arms around him. 

“You did very well, pet. I’m so pleased. Now, would you like a little reward?”

“Yes, please sir,” Harry said meekly. He gasped when he suddenly felt Draco’s hand on his rigid shaft. The warm calloused hand stroked him just the way he liked. Harry spread his thighs helplessly, allowing Draco better access, moaning when a thumb swiped firmly over the head of his aching cock, sliding in the pre-cum that dripped to the carpet.

Draco’s hand sped up, and Harry’s hips started to pump, thrusting into the fist that surrounded him. It had been a long time since a mere hand job thrilled him, but this one did. Whether it was because of the man he loved or the spanking or a combination, Harry didn’t know.

His climax hit him like a freight train, dwarfing his efforts at Grimmauld Place when he was apart from Draco and couldn’t sleep for thinking of him. He spurted high, catching Draco under his chin, although never realized it, for his eyes were screwed shut with the almost painful pleasure as he cried out helplessly, feeling like a rag doll in the strong arms holding him.

Draco smiled, watching his beautiful boy. His sensitivity and responsiveness struck a chord deep within him. Harry’s eyes were half closed, when Draco wiped off his chin, sucking his fingers sensually to enjoy the taste.

He held Harry close, cuddling him through the aftershocks of his orgasm, smiling when his liquid eyes opened, glittering green, full of wonder.

“That was fucking phenomenal, sir.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, pet,” Draco said, amused. “But now there’s a little matter of my satisfaction.”

“Anything you want, sir. I’m yours.”

Draco gave him a soft kiss on the mouth, and Harry leaned into him, receiving it. He pulled back looking at his beautiful face, chiseled jaw, green eyes, pillowy lips. He stroked his chest and it flexed underneath his fingers. Suddenly, he had the strong desire to see his body bathed in cum.

“I want you to kneel. I’m going to jack off on you. I want to mark you, pet.” Draco directed.

“Obediently, Harry, slipped off his lap, kneeling on the floor.

“Take off your shirt.”

Harry obeyed, allowing his shirt to slide off his arms to the floor, his hands resting at his side. His chiseled broad chest was revealed,high tight pink nipples erect from exposure to the cool air. Draco hardened more when he was reminded that Harry spent every morning using grooming spells to rid the hair from his entire body.

“Hands behind you,” Draco reminded him.

“Oh, yes, sir,” Harry said in his soft voice, surprised he had forgotten. He clasped his hands behind him, resting them above his flaming ass.

Draco stood up and opened his pants, easing his erection out. It was such a relief that he sighed. Harry’s eyes were fixed on his tumescent organ.

It didn’t take long; Draco stroked himself to a quick release, anxious to see his cream on Harry’s body. When he came in three long spurts, the white fluid covered Harry’s chest, glistening on his smooth skin. Harry gasped at the heat of Draco’s release, leaving a burning trail as it slid down his chest.

“Very good, pet…so sexy painted with my cum…Fucking perfect.” Harry tried to hide a smile as Draco used his wand to clean him up.

“Okay baby, stand up,” he said, pulling Harry to his feet. Draco led him to the desk and said “Grace.” Harry leaned over immediately so his chest was flat against the surface, his hands straight out in front of him, palms down. Harry knew his ass was exposed to Draco’s view, and he trembled nervously because it was still sensitive. One hand on the small of his back held him in place.

“Nice and hot,” Draco observed, placing his hand softly on Harry’s flaming bottom. He conjured cooling gel and Harry jumped at the chill when Draco smoothed it over his ass. It dried quickly and he let Harry get dressed. When he was fully clothed, Harry looked a bit shaken so Draco grabbed his arm and gave him sensual, deep kiss.

“Was it what you hoped for?”

“Yes, sir. More. So much more. I’m so…hot for you. All the time.”

Draco smiled and embraced him tightly.

“You can always count on daddy to punish his naughty boy.”

Harry chuckled. “What’s gotten into you? First the atrium, now office play?”

“What can I say? I can’t keep my hands off you, but you know that already…now get back to work, boss.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry was in much better spirits after their office play, and Draco was forced to realize that constant rough sex, though pleasurable, was no match for the joy Harry felt, playing his submissive. He worried it would take over their relationship, but he wanted to give him everything he needed. He also remembered that Harry was practically panting when he put his hands on him in public. He wanted Draco’s public affections, and he wasn’t going to deny him anymore. He felt like he was finally taking care of his boy the way he deserved, and he decided to kick it up a notch. They were just finishing dinner when Draco presented his perfect plan.

“I need to go France this weekend, and I want you to come with me.”

“I’d love to Draco, but you know it’s my weekend with the kids.”

“I am aware. That’s why I want you to bring them with you. I’ll bring Scorpius too. It could be a family vacation.”

Though he expected Harry to jump at the chance; he was always saying that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, Harry just remained silent, cutting his steak and taking a long time to chew before answering.

“I hardly think the kids will want to see their father in a dog collar.” his tone was light and teasing. Draco furrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Don’t be silly Harry. We’ll leave that for the evenings. The elves will watch over them while they sleep. You’re the one that’s been begging to see that BDSM club. We could leave the collar at home if you want. I think this will be good for the us. All of us. Come on, it’s Paris. They’ll love it, and you say your kids have never seen it.”

Harry was silent once more, and Draco started to realize that he was missing something. Something important. The last time he’d seen all of Harry’s kids was months ago.

“Are you trying to keep me away from your children?”

“Of course not, Draco. They’re just...not used to us yet. It’s going to take a little more time.” 

“A little hard to spend the rest of your life with someone when you're keeping your kids away. Now, who’s the dirty little secret?”

Draco’s tone was angry. He was upset he hadn’t realized it sooner. Of course, Harry was planning on leaving him eventually, or he didn’t trust him. That’s why he was keeping the children away. He felt a sting to his ego and a matching sting to his eyeballs. He was just about to get up when Harry stood and knelt at his side at the head of the table.

“I do want to spend my life with you, Draco. Nothing’s going to change that. Albus has no issues with it, but James and Lilly kick up a fuss. They’ll come 'round eventually. You’ll see.”

At Draco’s sour expression, he continued, “I can switch this weekend with Ginny and come with you alone. A Paris vacation will be good for us. We haven’t gone anywhere in ages.”

Looking down into his pleading eyes, Draco wanted to tell him no. He wanted to punish him, and he was angry at himself for starting Dom/sub play. He was afraid Harry was losing himself in the fantasy and was compartmentalizing this part of himself from his true life. That meant that Draco was being compartmentalized too. Once he was no longer needed, he would be discarded. It wouldn’t be a real loss because he kept his real life as the family man, protected. 

Yet, the temptation of taking Harry out as a sub in public was far too great. He needed to scope the BDSM scene to find a new Dom for Blaise, which would be another way to bring Harry closer. He already sent a message to the owner of _Le Donjon_ detailing what was needed, and he was expected.

Draco ended up agreeing to take Harry after endless begging. They didn’t have sex that night, but Draco held him close as he fell into an uneasy sleep. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Paris turned out to be a wonderful idea. Draco took to him to an extravagant dinner Friday evening and made love to him sweetly in front of floor-to-ceiling windows displaying the Eiffel tower. He took his time, bringing him to orgasm four times over the course of a few hours. Wanting to remind Harry that they were more than just Master and slave.

He woke Harry up Saturday morning to a rim job that had him spurting in the sheets, then he fucked him lovingly in the shower. Their collective groans echoed against the walls as Draco kissed him throughout, filling him with his seed and a proclamation of love on his lips.

Over breakfast at his favorite cafe, _Serafina’s,_ Draco held his hand across the table. Harry was shocked and endlessly pleased by his public affections, having always to initiate contact himself. They went to the Louvre afterwards, and Harry’s jade eyes sparkled as Draco took time explaining all the art to him.

“Is there anything you don’t know?”

“Plenty,” Draco pulled him close and kissed him in front of all the museum guests. “I don’t know how I get to call you mine.”

Harry startled, looking around, and people were staring, but Draco appeared unconcerned. He looked back at him and realized Draco hadn’t even broken eye contact. A spike of adrenaline coursed through his body and he grabbed Draco around the neck and kissed him for all he was worth. They never kissed in public before, even if they were in a muggle place. That was a hard rule.

“I don’t think you know what you do to me,” Harry whispered.

________________________________________________________________________________________

Upon returning to the hotel, Draco told him they would be spending the afternoon on a boat in the south of France and to dress in swimming trunks. Harry expected a little speed boat. Instead, they were greeted by the Malfoy yacht that needed to be trolleyed to in a speed boat because it was too big to be docked.It was a staggering 180 feet long and looked sleek and dangerous, not unlike Draco himself. Harry always knew Draco was rich, but he nevermentioned he had such a possession. He was only realizing now that he never mentioned his money, at all. He was shocked as the weight of Draco’s wealth truly hit him, but he tried to play it cool, chuckling when he saw the name splashed in bold letters across the side.

“ _The Conquerer,_ really, Draco? How appropriate.” Harry grinned, lifting his eyebrows.

“I didn’t choose the name. This was my grandfather’s yacht, but I do plan on showing you how appropriate it really is.”

They spent most of the afternoon, below deck.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

They had dinner on the yacht after multiple rounds of love making and returned to the hotel by nightfall. Draco arranged the things he wanted Harry to wear for the evening. He pulled the collar out of his trunk and fastened it around Harry’s neck, catching his eyes darken just as he lowered them to the ground. He also attached cuffs to his wrists and ankles.

“Well, pet,” he drawled. “Today was quite a treat for me. And tonight I have a treat for you. Please put these on.”

“I’m suppose to wear this out?”

“Sir,” Draco suggested firmly.

“Sir, I’m suppose to wear these out?” Harry repeated. Even though they were in muggle Paris, he really didn’t want to go anywhere in public dressed like that. And in the collar and cuffs! He always fantasized about wearing the collar in public, but the reality was a bit more jarring than anticipated. A wizard could be there tonight, just as Draco was, and recognize him. It would be so humiliating if he was photographed like this and would certainly make the front page of the Daily Profit where his kids would see. Draco told him he wasn’t planning on changing his appearance for anonymity.

“Yes, pet. And why do you suppose that is?”

“Because you say so, sir,”Harry said with anxious resignation.

“Get dressed.”

Harry pulled on dark red leather pants that sat extremely low and tight on his hips. He buttoned a thin white silk shirt to his throat to cover the collar. It was so thin that his nipples showed through. He started to tuck the shirt into his tight trousers when Draco came over to him.

“No, pet,” he scolded. “Not like that.”

Draco pulled the shirt free, so that it hung loose over the trousers, and unbuttoned most of the buttons, exposing the collar and his smooth, golden chest. He left two buttons intact, just at Harry’s waist. Harry didn’t want to look down, afraid that when he moved, the top of his cock would be exposed. Draco rolled each sleeve twice, exposing the cuffs encircling Harry’s wrists.

“You look beautiful,” Draco purred, stroking Harry’s bare chest with the flat of his hand. He slid his hand under the shirt, finding a nipple easily and pinching it hard. Then he did the same to the other, smoothing the silk against the erect peaks.

“Lovely. I’m almost tempted to add jewelry, but not tonight, I think.”

Harry let out the breath he’d been holding with a huff. Draco chuckled. He turned Harry around and ran his hand over the tight leather stretched over the taut curves of his ass.

“The boots, pet. Wait for me here,” he commanded and vanished.

Harry sat down to pull on the boots. The expensive leather was soft enough to fit over the ankle cuffs, hugging them so he could feel them when he took a step.

He gasped in admiration when Draco reappeared. He was wearing black leather trousers and a black leather shirt, molded tightly to his body, cut in a deep V which showed off his pale chiseled chest. The dark leather enhanced his naturally commanding masculinity and Harry felt his cock swell with desire, trapped as it was in the tight confines of his pants. A strap dangled from Draco’s belt and he held a leash in his gloved hands.

Harry swallowed with fear and arousal; he wanted to feel those gloved hands on his body, sliding over his skin, bending him over, spanking him…At the same time he was terrified that Draco was going to take him out in public at the end of a leash and they’d be photographed.

He considered saying one of his safe words, but hesitated, wondering if he really wanted this to stop. Almost as if he’d read his mind, Draco approached him, letting the leash slide through his gloved fingers. “Your words, pet?”

“Yellow for slow down, quidditch for stop,” Harry repeated.

Draco hooked the leash to the ring in Harry’s collar. “Come along, pet.”

Harry hesitated pulling back against the leash. “Where exactly are we going…sir?” He remembered to add.

“You will find out in good time, pet. I believe I gave you an order,” Draco said with slight menace.

Harry followed Draco, praying to merlin that the other hotel guests of the building wouldn’t see this. He was relieved when no one got onto the elevator with them. Draco punched the button for the basement so that they could apparate away from the cameras and not draw attention from the other guests with the loud crack of apparition.

When they arrived in an abandoned alley a few blocks away from their destination, Harry started to really panic, terrified that Draco would order him to undress or even punish him in front of other people. He panted, desperate for air, unable to even say his words.

Draco pulled him against the wall, putting a comforting hand on Harry’s thigh.

“Deep breaths, babe. Breathe for me. And tell me what brought this on.”

Harry gulped for air, trying to calm himself. This is Draco, he reminded himself, whom he’d be able to stop with his safe word.

“You’re not—not going to make me—punish me, in front—of..”

Draco reached over and pulled Harry into a hug. “Of course not, baby. I’m not doing this to torture you. I want you to experience another aspect of this lifestyle and see if you enjoy it. You will remain fully dressed, and I won’t punish you in front of anyone.”

“Thank you,” Harry said faintly, going limp in Draco’s arms.

“I want you to see what you’re getting into, Harry, not make you miserable. Don’t worry. Remember, you’re in control here. You can stop me with a word.”

Harry nodded, getting his breathing back under control. “Thank you, Draco.”

“Just let me know if you want to leave, and we’ll go immediately,” Draco promised. “Think you can live through this?”

“Yeah,” Harry said nodding. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Draco laughed. “It won’t be that bad, Harry. You’ll see. You might enjoy going to the club every now and then. And now I think perhaps you’d better get back to calling me sir.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, feeling immensely relieved.

“That’s my good pet.”

After they exited the alley and emerged onto a public street, Harry realized he was facing the walk into the club. Wearing a collar and leash. A very obvious leash. The silver links glittered under the streetlights like diamonds.

“Uncomfortable, pet?”

Harry nodded slowly, not turning to look at him, but Draco cupped his chin and turned so their eyes could meet.

“Look at me, babe. The collar is my protection in there. Do you understand? You won’t be able to use magic in front of the muggles if something happens.”

Harry’s eyes dropped, and he said nothing.

Draco sighed. “I’m not doing this to upset you. You are a very beautiful boy, Harry. If I let you walk in there with no sign that you have an owner, you might not like what would happen next. You won't be hurt, but you might have to fend off a number of offers from some persistent admirers. I’m not going to put you in that position, understand? This way the other Tops will know that you already belong to me.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said quietly, overwhelmed by the complexities of this sick world.

Draco was frustrated; the connection they had while fucking on his yacht all day seemed to disappear as Harry became speechless and uncomfortable.

“Talk to me, baby.”

The endearment seemed to signal a break of scene for Harry and he was more able to speak.

“Can’t we just back to the hotel?”

“We won’t stay long, but the owner is a friend, and he invited us to the special lounge section of the club. I promised I’d be here. I’m trying to get connected to new Doms. I’d like us to go in and say hello. Can you do that much for me?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said dejectedly.

“Good boy. Come on then.” Draco continued walking, resigning himself to leading a sullen pet into the club, but knowing that no matter what his attitude, Harry would attract a lot of attention and he would be the envy of many of the Doms. Not that he was desirous of raising envy from others. He was far more concerned with Harry’s discomfort. He was already ogled at enough in London.

He led Harry down the sidewalk briskly, not wanting to subject him to the stares of the curious when passerby caught a glimpse of the leash.

He opened the door and the burly security guard recognized him, allowing them to pass with a respectful, “Good evening, Monsieur Malfoy. It’s good to see you again.”

Draco nodded to him and proceeded to the lounge room that was also guarded. The room’s entrance had two heavy iron doors and was positioned in the foyer before the dance floor became visible. Draco was thankful he recently visited as he now recognized most of the workers and they recognized him, in turn. The owner must have informed them of his arrival.

“Please let Monsieur Wolfe know that I am expecting him.”

“Of course, Monsieur Malfoy.”

Harry wondered how they knew him so well. He must have frequented this club a lot when he was married to Astoria. He had mentioned on their trip that he was good friends with owner, George Wolfe. Harry couldn’t possibly fathom the strange connections of the very wealthy.

Draco was thankful that the kinkier scenes took place in the basement, so there were no slings, no slaves being fucked from both ends, and the stocks weren’t visible.

However, two Doms appeared to be having some sort of competition, their subs bent over two tables receiving a counted number of strokes from their weapon of choice. Each Dom was whipping the submissive owned by the other, the idea being to see which sub cried uncle first.

A number of men were receiving discreet blow jobs in darkened booths and unclaimed subs were standing or kneeling against the wall, waiting to see if they would get lucky tonight.

Harry looked very shocked and a little scared. Draco put his mouth close to his ear and said, “You belong to me, pet. No one will touch you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry whispered.

“When we get to the table, stand behind my chair, unless I tell you to sit, okay?”

Harry nodded and gave Draco a tight, uncomfortable smile.

The hostess led them to a table for two and Draco waited for Mr. Wolfe’s arrival. He appeared shortly after they sat down, with his own sub in tow. Harry’s face blanched as he took in the full glory of the owner’s sub, practically naked, his well-muscled torso well displayed. Nipple clamps were linked to his wide studded collar and to a leather belt buckled around his waist with chains. He wore a cock ring, also attached to the clamps with chains, and his erection looked purple and angry. As they strode forward, he saw the sub’s hands were cuffed behind his back as he followed behind Mr. Wolfe on a leash. When he caught sight of him from behind, he saw that he was impaled with a large butt plug. Weights swung between his legs and Harry realized with shock that they were attached somehow to his balls. He felt a little faint and decided that he didn’t want to know exactly _how_ they were. His buttocks were well-marked with red lines crisscrossing over the muscular globes. Despite that, his eyes were peaceful, almost as if he were on some kind of high.

“Slave, please get us some drinks,” Mr Wolfe commanded in his heavy French accent. 

He went to the bar, leaving Harry wondering just exactly how he was going to order with a gag in his mouth and bring everything back to the table with his hands pinned behind him.

“Eyes down, pet.” Draco gave him a little reminder and Harry gratefully lowered his eyes, not wanting to see any more.

A server came to the table with a tray, unloading the glasses of scotch, while the owner’s sub kneeled behind Mr. Wolfe’s chair.

Mr. Wolfe studied Harry, and he began to realize that although his clothing exposed him provocatively, his outfit was actually quite demure compared to most people in the club.

“A new one Monsieur Malfoy. Lovely. Have you traded him yet?” he asked Draco casually.

Harry hoped desperately that his comment didn’t mean what he thought it meant. Submitting to Draco was one thing; he had never considered that his submission might mean that Draco would give him to someone else to use.

Harry turned his pleading eyes to Draco, receiving a little swat as a reminder. “Eyes down. Perhaps you’d better kneel pet,” Draco said under his breath.

Harry lowered his eyes and took in a shuddering breath, dropping to the floor.

Mr Wolfe spoke up, chuckling. “Ah, Monsieur Malfoy, always insisting on a one-man sub. Selfish as always. He belongs to you only and wouldn’t obey anyone else I assume, like your last…But what happened to Blaise? Yours for ten years, if I remember correctly. So lovely, maybe more so than this one. I never saw a sub more enamored with his master.”

Harry’s chain shook loudly as he shifted angrily. He couldn’t help it. He felt like pulling out his wand and desecrating the entire club to the ground in a whirl of fiendfyre. Draco tightened his hold on the leash as he spoke in rapid French.

“I see. I’m not surprised you don’t want to trade him. He is stunning, too. Tell me, is every part of him as gorgeous as what shows? Is he beautiful in his submission?”

“Is Charles?” Harry realized Draco knew the name of the owner’s sub.

“As you can see,” Mr Wolfe shrugged. “Charles is never more beautiful than when he is suffering. Kneel up. Isn’t that right, slave?” He tugged on the chains attached to Charles’ nipples, and the sub moaned and shut his eyes.

Harry felt like crying, but he couldn’t shame Draco that way so he blinked rapidly and looked at the floor.

Draco recognized the acute discomfort on his face, and hurried the conversation along in French. After fifteen minutes of Harry trying to hold his tears back, Draco leaned down and whispered in his ear.

“What’s your favorite sport, pet?”

Harry looked up, his eyes meeting Draco’s “Quidditch, sir,” he whispered back.

Draco nodded. “Excuse us, Monsieur Wolfe, and thank you for inviting us. We forgot to take care of something.”

Mr. Wolfe laughed. “Don’t be too hard on him, Monsieur Malfoy.”

Draco smiled politely and tugged on the leash, watching Harry rise gracefully to his feet as he had taught himself. Harry tried to school his face to remain passive as he looked at the floor, afraid to meet anyone’s eyes. He bumped into Draco as someone’s hand brushed his ass, and he jumped away from the touch.

Ordinarily that would have earned him at least a reproof, if not a swat, but Draco merely walked faster, opening the outer door and leading Harry onto the deserted sidewalk.

Harry drooped miserably, following behind Draco, not realizing he’d stopped until he bumped into him again. “Sorry, sir,” he mumbled.

“Harry, look at me. Scene ended.”

Harry looked up, trying to blink back his tears. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know you wanted to…you enjoyed it in there…I ruined it…,” he stammered.

Draco raised his hand and thumbed away the single tear on Harry’s cheek.

“The whole point of this is to enjoy what we’re doing. I only brought you here because you asked to see it. I’m not going to have fun if I know you’re miserable.” Draco felt almost helpless. “I want you to be happy.”

Harry shrank in the shadows as a couple passed by, their attention drawn by the glittering leash that was still in Draco’s hand.

“I guess you really aren’t an exhibitionist,” Draco said, unhooking the leash to stash it in his pocket. He reached to unbuckle the collar, but Harry stopped him with a hesitant hand.

“Please, sir, leave that on,” he begged.

“You don’t have to, Harry. It’s no disgrace not to like something. We tried, and now we know you don’t care for the club,” Draco said reassuringly. “You don’t need the collar out here.”

“I like it, sir. It makes me feel like I belong to you,” Harry said shyly.

“You belong to me whether you’re wearing my collar or not,” Draco said, sweeping his boy into a ferocious hug, unable to withstand the sight of Harry’s distress any longer.

“Thank you,” Harry said, his arms coming to circle Draco hesitantly.

Draco turned his head and kissed Harry, the sweetest most tender kiss he had yet bestowed on him in Paris.

“You’re trembling, baby. Do you want me take you home back to London? They have international portkeys every hour.”

“No, I want you to…to take me to the hotel, and…make love to me,” then added hopefully, “sir.”

Draco crushed Harry close to his heart. He was frighteningly happy; Harry did want more than his dominance, after all; he wanted his love too.

“Do you truly love me, Harry?” He demanded harshly.

“Yes, oh yes,” Harry answered breathlessly.

Draco drew him under the street lamp and searched his face.

“Look at me carefully, pet. I have a shameful past, and I know it’s hardened me. I’m not the easiest to get along with. I’m broody and ill-tempered.I can be cold, rude, brash, demanding. I’m broken and depraved…” Draco shook his head at himself. “You’re whole and wonderful, Harry. The most beautiful, brave man I know, and you can do far better than me. I’m just a kinky bastard. I will always thrill at the sight of you bent over my knee getting your arse warmed up. I can’t promise that I’ll ever want to stop spanking you.” 

“You’re not broken!” Harry cried indignantly. “And I’m not as wholesome as you think. You are beautiful to me and brave too. Selfless and kind. You completely turned your life around and redeemed yourself, without anyone’s help. Your kinkiness gets me hot, Draco, and I can’t live without it. I like it when you warm my arse. I don’t want you to stop.”

“You know what you’re agreeing to, don’t you, baby?” Draco asked anxiously. “I’m fine just playing, but when I pledge my heart and the red collar, it’s forever. You’re agreeing you’ll be mine ’til death do us part. No one else gets to see this arse but me.”

Harry was thrilled beyond his wildest dreams, not realizing that Draco probably took him on this trip to surprise him with the announcement that the contract with Blaise was finally dissolved. No wonder he was anxious to find him a new Dom. It must have been painful to break Blaise’s heart, and he wanted someone to replace him. This meant that Harry could be his, truly his, forever. He could finally sign the contract. He instantly pictured their wedding ceremony, Draco in trim white robes standing across from him as they said their vows. It felt closer to his reality than ever.

“I know what I’m agreeing to, Draco,” Harry answered, his eyes shining. “I don’t want anyone else to see my arse. And you belong to me as much as I belong to you,” he ended proudly.

“I do,” Draco admitted. “I’m a sad shell of a man, Harry. This is what you’ve done to me. Beaten me at my own game. I’m afraid I can’t do without you any longer. I want you to move in, permanently and sign a contract, if you’d like.”

“Of course I will. I’d love to.”

Draco’s heart gave a strong thud and he shook his head ruefully. “It’s so true that it’s the Top who’s the slave.”

Harry laughed confidently. “Right then, take me to the hotel, slave.”

“I’ll take you back to the room and fuck you ’til you scream,” Draco said.

“No, just make love to me,” Harry said, touching Draco’s face with gentle fingers.

“I can do that,” Draco said, smiling to see the hopeful happy look in his eyes after the pinched, miserable expression in the club. He finally got through to Harry. They didn’t lose themselves in the fantasy, after all. Harry wanted him, all of him, with all his faults and all his sins. Draco was almost scared by how how happy he was as he led them back to the hotel for a passionate night of tender lovemaking.

___________________________________________________________________________

They departed by international portkey to London on Sunday afternoon, and spent the day horseback riding across the Malfoy grounds. Harry had never been more happy in his entire life. He finally had Draco where he wanted him, all to himself. It would be made official tonight. As the wind whipped his hair, he imagined their life together fifty years from now, on these very grounds.

When they sat for dinner that night in Draco’s dining room, Harry came down the stairs from his shower to the red collar glittering invitingly in its velvet box. A contract sat next to it with a quill and both their wands lay on the table. The sight thrilled him.

As Harry read the contract over, he thought of Blaise and how victorious he was over him. He almost felt bad for the poor sod. Not wanting to ruin the mood in France, he decided not to mention him before, but couldn’t help doing so now.

“You sly dog. Why didn’t you tell me you got Blaise to break the contract?" he grinned.

Draco looked down at the table.

“What is it? Did he take it badly?”

When Draco continued not to answer, suddenly looking nervous, it dawned on him.

“You never got him to break the contract.”

Draco’s silence confirmed his worst fear. All the air left his body at once and he slammed the quill down on the table.

“You can’t be serious. You were going to let me sign this contract with Blaise still in the picture?” his voice rising to incredulous fury. The plates and glasses started shaking on the table, his accidental magic going haywire.

“I thought…well, I thought you knew. That’s partly why we were in Paris, to find him a new Dom that could persuade him. You requested a contract months ago, when you knew his was still in effect.”

“I didn’t think you’d have the balls to offer me a contract if his was still holding. I always just assumed you were waiting for him to break it. What the bloody hell is this, Draco? You’re signing me up, just to be another one of your whores? Is that what I am to you?”

Harry could tell Draco was panicking.

“Of course not Harry. You’ve been wanting this for a long time, and I was waiting for you to be ready. I thought it would make you happy. I’m sorry. Just forget the contract, okay?We don’t need it. I’m devoted to you regardless.”

“What about all those things you said about ’til death do us part?’ Did you give Blaise that same speech? You did, didn’t you? That’s why he’s so goddamn wasted for you. I knew it. I knew it that morning he walked into your house with a bottle of fucking edible lube in his hand when your divorce with Astoria was announced. Do you remember what I told you?”

Draco bowed his head shamefully.

“I told you that you’ve ruined him for good, and you’re probably going to do the same thing to me because you’re fucked up that way. Thanks for proving me right. You’re a right bastard, Draco.”

Harry stood up from the table, the energy building was too much to bear sitting down. He took the collar and threw it hard enough against the wall that the box broke into several pieces and the collar landed pathetically on the ground ten feet away. The clank of the metal against the hardwood floor rang ominously in the hall.

“And how the fuck does everyone know you in that BDSM club if you haven’t been there in almost a year. Did you go there without me?”

Draco was almost hyperventilating at this point, and Harry strode towards him, gripping the front of his shirt in a fist to bring his face close to him, his eyes glittering with rage. He was formidable in his anger. The submissive was gone, and the man who defeated Lord Voldemort stood in his place.

“Answer me!”

“Just once,” he gasped. 

Harry released him in pure shock, dumbstruck. He wasn’t expecting him to say yes.

“It was only for a half hour. It was way before this started between us, when I was overseeing renovations.I’m sorry Harry, nothing happened.”

Harry turned to him, incredulous.

“Oh, I bet nothing happened, you sick, twisted fuck. I bet you didn’t stick your prick into one of those pathetic loser submissives that were drooling all over themselves for you. I saw the way they were looking at you as you led me on your little leash...You have Blaise. You have me. Who knows what other whores you keep? Fuck you, _sir._ ”

“No! Harry, I would never, ever cheat on you. You have to believe me. Please!” Draco was verging on tears now. His voice rose to a high pleading pitch that Harry had never heard before.

Harry fled to the parlor, needing distance. He was flooded with a torrent of emotions and felt the keen sting of betrayal burning through him. He was never going to break that contract with Blaise, and he was going to have to live with sharing Draco forever. He couldn’t live like that, but he felt so stuck and helpless. He loved the git too much to leave him, even if he wanted to. But he needed to do it to protect himself.

He wanted it so badly, to step into the floo and leave him behind, for good. He willed his foot forward, but it was like a paralysis had taken hold. His body wasn’t listening to him. He felt chained to the floor and remembered Draco’s invisible shackles with resentment.

As he crossed his arms, staring at the fire, waiting for his body to move, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He shucked it off and walked a few feet away, turning his back to Draco. Then he felt a hand on his calf. He turned around, shocked to see Draco kneeling before him.

“Please, Harry,” Draco sobbed, his eyes to the ground.

“I’m sorry. This is all just a terrible misunderstanding. You have to believe that I would never cheat on you. I love you so much. I can’t live without you. Please,” his voice coming out in a tremor as he sobbed pathetically. 

Harry felt himself completely weaken at the sight of his master begging and crying on his knees before him. It was a sight he thought he would never see in his life. His heart contracted painfully and he felt a sting in his own eyes to see the man he loved suffering like this. _Goddamn it._ He gripped Draco’s arm and pulled him up to embrace him. Draco sobbed harder into his neck, and Harry stroked his back to soothe him.

“It’s okay. Stop crying,” Harry said flatly.

Draco shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I’ll take care of this Harry, any way I have to. You’ll see.”

Harry looked to the ceiling, praying to Merlin that he meant it. He’d heard it before and they were still in the same fucked up situation, weeks later. Blaise was ruining his life. Eventually, Draco stopped crying long enough for Harry to take him upstairs and put him to bed. His grey eyes were blank and somber as he carefully disrobed him and tucked him in. He wanted to sleep at Grimmauld Place, but knew Draco would probably have a breakdown, so he shucked his clothes down to his briefs and climbed into bed with him at the opposite edge from where Draco lay.

Draco immediately spooned behind him, kissing his neck. He forced Harry to turn around so that he could be held. Being the weak slave that he was meant he couldn’t deny him this. Draco kissed him desperately, all over his face and then his lips. 

“Harry…please, make love to me,” he whispered, his voice laced with desire.

“I can’t. I’m not exactly in the mood here,” he responded without emotion.

“I need you. I need to feel you. Please, it’s been so long since I had you inside,” he whispered breathlessly. Draco stroked Harry’s flaccid cock to no avail. He tried to dip below the covers to put his mouth on it, but Harry held him up.

“Stop it, Draco. I don’t want to,” he said hatefully.Draco sighed and turned away, fresh tears streaked downto his temple as he scooted back to his side of the bed, away from Harry.

Harry’s stomach clenched painfully as the sound of Draco’s soft sobs filled the room. He put an arm over his eyes, sighing, feeling absolutely miserable. _F_ _uck._ He scooted towards Draco and spooned behind him, stroking his arm. Draco’s sobs eventually quieted and Harry lulled them both into a restless sleep.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The spanking and BDSM club scene owes credit to "A Strong Hand" by Catt Ford. 
> 
> So, what'd you think? Sorry for all the tears, but it couldn't be helped. Submission and Domination leaves you raw like that.


	13. You Drive Me Mental

The following week passed by in a hopeless haze of insomnia. Draco had one thing to look forward to, at least. Blaise agreed to meet a Dom named David that weekend after being begged by Draco at the Wizarding Country Club on Wednesday.

“Fine, Drake. Whatever you want, love.”

Draco blushed, indignant at the pet name, but he couldn’t say anything for fear of upsetting him.

“So how goes it with Potter?” He crossed his legs. Wearing pale grey slacks and a light blue button up that brought out his eyes. His hair had grown out into long wavy black tendrils, but it suited him. He truly looked like the star of an Italian soap opera tonight. 

Draco shrugged.

“Trouble in paradise?”

“No,” Draco said, unconvincingly.

“When are you going to learn that it’s impossible for you to lie to me? You look like you’re on the verge of tears, for merlin’s sake. What happened?”

“Nothing happened. You needn’t concern yourself.”

Blaise leaned forward to put a hand on his knee, but Draco recoiled. He seemed to remember himself and pulled his hand back.

“Sorry…habit. You are my concern. You always will be.”

Draco exploded. “That’s the bloody problem Blaise! Ever since Harry found out about our contract, he’s been giving me hell!”

Blaise sat back in his chair, contemplative, attempting to hide a sly smile. But he couldn't hide his movie-star smile if he tried. His perfect teeth glittered in the dim light of the club, and Draco immediately knew he made a grave mistake. He just showed his cards. Blaise will be even less inclined to break the contract now. His control was slipping because he hardly slept at night.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” not sounding sorry in the slightest.

“Don’t be a git Blaise. Just bloody release yourself already. Please. You deserve someone better than me, anyway. I’m fucking worthless, ” he spat out, exasperated, leaning his face in his hand.

Blaise furrowed his eyebrows, looking confused and a bit angry.

“Okay, you’re an imposter. Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy? Worthless? Since when have you had a self esteem issue? You didn’t talk this way at your lowest point, right after the war. You always acted like the prodigal son, no matter how you felt inside. Are you sure you’re a Malfoy? Malfoys don’t behave this way.”

It was a line he used on his son Scorpius if he ever acted out in a temper. Blaise knew that. It was a testament to their long friendship and how deeply integrated into Draco’s life he was. He sighed, feeling more miserable.

“Drake, come on. Don’t give me that face. Listen, I’m sorry things aren’t working out between you and Potter, but it’s probably for the best. I hate that he’s making you feel this way. It’s not right…You’re gonna get hurt, badly, and I’m worried about you. You’re too far gone for him to see clearly. Rumors about him stopped for a while, but they started up again this week. He’s fucking around on you.”

“He’s not, Blaise. He loves me, alright? Just drop it.”

Blaise laughed softly. It was a cold sound.

“He loves you, huh. After a hot few months? Potter wouldn’t know the first thing about loving you. He might love the way he feels with you, but he doesn’t love the real you. He doesn’t even know you, not like I do…”

“He knows Blaise. He knows everything. I don’t hide a thing from him.”

Blaise raised his eyebrows, shocked.

“Is that so?”

“Yes. And he still loves me. More so now.”

Blaise sat back, finally looking defeated. Silence spread over the table. Then, Blaise thought of something.

“And he brings you around his kids?”

Draco wanted to lie so badly, but he knew he would be caught.

“It’s a work in progress.”

Blaise smiled, incredulous.

“Since when do you delude yourself? He might think it’s hot and heavy, but now that he knows the truth about you, he’s going to keep you in the dark...where we belong.”

“Shut it! The only problem we have is you! So just please. Please release yourself from the contract. Think about it, at least.”

Blaise put a hand on his chin, pretending to think.

“Hm…thought about it. Answer’s still no.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“Endless reasons, but mainly, I’m doing this _for_ you. You’ll see. If the stupid contract is enough to break you apart, then you won’t make it anyway.”He shrugged, getting up to leave.

“Good to see you Drake. You look awfully tired. Try to get some sleep, mate.” He vanished into the floo.

Draco sighed defeatedly and followed him to the floo to get to Grimmauld Place.

______________________________________________________________________________________

When he arrived, Harry was preening himself in the parlor mirror. He was beautifully dressed in tight fitting black plaid trousers and a crisp white button-down shirt. Upon closer inspection, Draco realized he used Veela potion on his hair to get it to lie flat in soft waves. He wasn’t wearing his glasses.

“You look nice,” Draco accused. Harry didn’t answer, continuing to fiddle with a cuff link, and Draco stepped forward to fix it for him.

“Where to?”

“Got a thing with Hermione and Ron. She just got back from her world expedition.”

“Right. What was she doing, again?”

“If you bothered to listen to a word I say, you’d know that she was traveling the world for almost a year looking for different wood with magical properties. She wants to petition the ministry to allow other magical beings to possess a type of wand, different from wizards,” he said, annoyed. 

“I knew that.”

“Right…don’t wait up.” He walked towards the floo.

“Wait a tick. Since when do you need to get so dressed up to see Hermione and Ron? And isn’t it late?”

“We’re meeting some dignitaries at _Incantation_ for drinks. They just got in from the states. Hermione asked me to come as a favor.”

“Where are your glasses?”

“For merlin’s sake Draco, contacts. It’s a muggle thing. You’re going to make me late. I don’t question you endlessly when you leave the house, even when it’s to go see your ex-lover.”

“Blaise is close to cracking. I made progress today. He’s meeting a contact this weekend.”

“Right. I bet he is. You already said he’d agreed to meet your contacts.”

“Yes, but now I have someone set up for him. The whole point we went to France, remember? His name is David.”

“Well, David and Blaise can kindly sod off to hell, because frankly, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Draco looked dejected and hurt. Harry laughed coldly.

“And here I thought, we went to France to be together. What a bloody fool I’ve been.”

He pushed passed Draco to the floo, when Draco grabbed his bicep.

“Harry, wait—“ Harry pulled his arm from him hatefully.

“I’m late now, thanks to you. _Don’t_ be here when I get back.” And he disappeared in the floo.

Draco punched the wall, scraping his knuckles. His heart and eyes were on fire from the helplessness he felt. He floo’d to Malfoy Manor and lay in bed alone that night, hoping Harry would surprise him. Sleep never came. Neither did Harry.

________________________________________________________________________________________

A few days later, Draco walked to Harry’s office to deliver some paperwork and was shocked at the sight that greeted him through his half open door. His new assistant had her hands all over him, massaging his neck and shoulders. Her long straight red hair was swept to one side and her blue eyes sparkled in delight, probably creaming over her chance to touch _The Chosen One._ His blood boiled and he turned to leave.

“Auror Malfoy, please come in.”

“I didn’t realize I was interrupting. I’ll come back,” he said, not even trying to hide the disdain in his voice.

“You’re not interrupting.” Harry tapped her hand to stop and she looked up at Draco, narrowing her crystal blue eyes at him, and walked out of his office, closing the door behind her.

Draco was determined to keep his mouth shut. He put the report gently on the desk and turned to leave, but before he opened the door to leave, he had to ask.

“Harry…are we okay?”

“Sure,” he said flatly, not looking up from the report.

Draco took a seat across from him.

“Look at me,” Draco commanded. Harry looked up, and for the first time, Draco couldn’t read his face. It was blank.

“It was just a misunderstanding, that’s all. How long are you going to continue to freeze me out? I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

At Draco’s pleading bloodshot gaze, Harry seemed to soften.

“When’s the last time you slept? You look awful.”

Draco stood and turned his back to him, clutching his forehead in frustration.

“France and thanks…listen Harry, I know you’re still angry, and that’s fine. Maybe you need to take a break from me…think about what you want.”

Even as he said it, his eyes watered, but he couldn’t take it anymore. Harry felt like a stranger to him. Though he was still spending most nights at Malfoy Manor, they slept at opposite ends of the bed, never touching. They hardly spoke to each other, and when they did, Harry was always snapping at him for one reason or another. Reduced to a nervous wreck, Draco wasn’t catching a minute of sleep. The only reason he was standing upright is because of a pepper-up potion. He’d been forced to use one every day this week.

He heard Harry stand up and come close behind him, felt calloused hands stroking his arms. His potent magic seeped through his shirt, warming him instantly.

“Would that I could.”

“What does that mean?”

Harry leaned up to kiss his cheek from behind.

“Means I’ll see you tonight at the manor.”

__________________________________________________________________________________

With only the ticking of the grandfather clock in the dining room, Draco and Harry had dinner. The silence was oppressive. It was pure agony for Draco, and he simply didn’t understand why Harry continued to see him. It was obvious he had pulled away already, and this was merely his ghost, sticking around to haunt him and taunt him with the thing he had lost. Draco couldn’t sit through dessert and retired to the parlor before it arrived. Harry followed.

Neech came in to deliver them treacle tart in the parlor, knowing it was Harry’s favorite. He took his with delight and began scarfing it down in large bites.

“None for me. Thank you Neech.”

“You’re welcome Master Draco.” He bowed so low that his nose touched the ground and disapparated.

“Master…” Harry said, rolling it around his tongue as if trying out the word for the first time.

“I wonder, did Blaise call you Master too?”

Draco just stared at him with cold unflinching eyes. He was tempted to tell him that yes, Blaise did call him master, when it pleased him, that he was the better submissive, the better friend. He wanted to tell him that, sometimes, he missed his best mate terribly. Like right now. He wished he could floo call Blaise and complain about how Harry was being a right git. He missed him so much in that moment that his eyes stung.

Instead, he stood and stormed out of the parlor, up the stairs to retire for bed. Blaise was onto something when he said it wasn’t good that he had no friends. Having never felt so alone, he missed his best mate, his ex-wife, his son, his mother, and even his father. All his emotions were turned inward with no hope of release. He felt that the planet was tipping over its axis. Lovers became enemies. Enemies became lovers.Master became slave.

As he took a shower, he prayed to Merlin there would soon be a resolution to the hell he found himself in. He almost wished Harry would break up with him. He knew it would hurt, but nothing could hurt more than this. Having him so near and acting so hatefully was worse than not having him at all. Or so he imagined.

Still, the thought of Harry leaving him instantly caused a few silent tears to fall. They mixed with the shower’s water and disappeared down the drain with his will.

When he exited the bathroom, Harry was already showered and sitting up in bed, reading a case file. Where as once the sight of Draco’s damp nude body caused his eyes to darken with lust, now, it caused his eyes to narrow in disdain, as if Draco were imposing on him in his own home. If the sight of him was so disagreeable, then he didn’t understand what Harry was still doing in his bed. _Just fucking leave me already._

He wanted to tell him as much, but he just slipped on a pair of briefs and crawled to his side of the bed. Harry turned the lamps off with a wave of his hand and set his case file on the night stand, tucking in. Draco could hardly breathe through his grief. He focused on the window and knew this would be another night devoid of sleep.

Thinking that he must stop at the apothecary tomorrow for a sleeping potion, he felt a hand on his back and soft lips caressing his shoulder. He almost cried with relief. All this emotion left him feeling raw and randy. Going from multiple rounds of sex each day, to nothing at all for over a week was wreaking havoc on his emotional state. It was mostly the reason he couldn’t fall asleep.

Fearful that Harry would stop if he reacted too eagerly, he didn’t move a muscle. Harry could reject him the minute he turned around. He had before. It was possible that this was yet another way to tease him with what he had lost. His hand crept forward to Draco’s front where his cock was already fully erect.

“Monsieur Malfoy. Always so excited,” he teased. Draco drew in a breath when Harry’s warm calloused hand caressed his cock through his briefs.

“Does daddy want to fuck?”

Draco squeezes his eyes shut, sending up a prayer to every god he could think of that this wasn’t a tease. He knows he’s in so much trouble. He knows it cerebrally, but being so close to him is like anesthesia. He feels brave as he leans back into him. Like he could give him all of himself and not worry what he gets back.

“Turn around.”

When he turns around he catches Harry’s blank eyes, but he doesn’t care. His face is still painfully beautiful this close, and he hasn’t laid eyes on him like this in so long. He has to embrace him. He rubs a cheek against his hair, feeling all the tension in his muscles slowly uncoil. He hasn’t been able to hug him in days.

“The most gorgeous man in London…hiding out with me,” Draco says wistfully.

He feels Harry swallow. His head sort of bows.

“I love you, Harry. I’ve got enough so I can give it out without needing to get it all back. You know what I mean?”

Harry’s eyes are shut, his face grave as he rasps, “Let go of me.”

When Harry’s eyes open to meet his, they’re hard. Draco realizes he’s fucked up _._ He was saying too much, and it was pathetic to his own ears, but he couldn’t help it. Harry pulls his hands away. His face is tight and pained as he detaches himself, presumably to go back to his side of the bed. Instead, he throws the covers off and lies on the center of the bed flat on his belly with his ass high in open invitation.

Draco immediately springs to action. He straddles Harry, caressing his buttocks then leans down to prepare his hole with his tongue and fingers. Harry smacks his head away.

“No. Just fuck me,” he says coldly. 

Draco’s too hard to argue with him and will take whatever he can get, so he uses his wand to cast preparation charms. He quickly shucks his briefs and breaches his entrance, before Harry could change his mind. He’s tighter than usual and Draco’s eyes roll back at the excruciating heat and pressure. It feels like a velvet fist is squeezing his cock as he slides in to the hilt. He groans loudly as his balls tuck against Harry’s ass and leans forward to lay flush against him, needing to feel all of him.

He kicks his legs apart to get in deep and starts fucking him languidly, slipping his hands under Harry’s chest and over his shoulders, leaning his cheek against Harry’s back. His warmth is like a tonic for his sad soul.

Harry’s not making a sound and Draco can’t help filling the void.

“Harry, you feel so good. I missed you,” he gasps. 

Without missing a beat, “Yeah? You missed your whore?”

Draco doesn’t answer, just continues thrusting inside at a slow pace, lost to the bliss of Harry’s hot heat.

“Tell me I’m your little bitch boy. Tell me I’m your cum slut,” Harry says hatefully.

“I love you.”

Seemingly getting angry at Draco’s words, he thrusts backwards repeatedly to force Draco to slam into him.

“Fuck me harder, _sir_ , _”_ he spits with venom.

But Draco doesn’t want to fuck him harder. He wants to make love to him face to face, so he pulls out and tries to turn Harry around. Harry resists him, throwing him backwards on the bed, and gets up on his hands and knees.

“No. Fuck me like the whore you think I am.”

Draco pauses. It finally enters his lust hazed mind that this is not good. His cock is aching and leaking, but he knows he needs to stop.

“Harry, look at me.”

“What’s the matter? Not man enough to fuck me, Malfoy?”

Draco could cry or spank him, he doesn’t know, but he chooses instead to shove his cock up his ass and start reaming him without mercy. Harry gets pushed up to the head of the bed so that he has to brace himself against the headboard with his hands. It starts rattling loudly against the wall.

“That’s it. Fuck me hard. Fuck me like a whore.”

Draco wishes he could wandlessly gag him, but he’s not as powerful as Harry, who’s hard and ignoring his own cock. He reaches around him to stroke it, but his hand is smacked away.

“Don’t fucking touch my cock.”

Harry seemed to think he was in control again, not letting a single moan or gasp escape. He thought he was going to get through this without cumming, but he forgot who he was dealing with. Draco bends his knees and angles his cock directly against his prostate, over and over again, for several minutes. Finally Harry lets out a strangled “Umph,” and a jet of pre-cum spurts onto the sheets.

Draco continues hammering his prostate and reaches down to massage his balls. Harry starts letting out machine gun whimpers like he’s trying hard to hold them back, wriggling around in a failed attempt to protect his prostate, but Draco holds him steady. Knowing it's his most erogenous zone, Draco reaches around to lightly pinch his nipples and his noises get louder. He’s gripping the sheets beneath him, white-knuckled, when Draco pushes on his taint hard, massaging in little circles.

“Oh fuck,” Harry groans. And he cums all over the sheets beneath him, his cock untouched. His inner muscles clench around him and Draco feels white hot heat course through him as he shoots his load inside Harry with a quiet groan. Harry pulls away before he can even finish and Draco’s forced to stroke himself to completion, his cum landing sadly on the sheets below, instead of inside Harry.

His eyes are closed through his orgasm, and by the time he opens them, Harry’s already huddled up to the edge of the bed, unmoving and silent. He uses his wand to cast a cleaning charm and cuddles behind his lover.

“Don’t touch me,” he whispers.

Draco sighs, detaching himself. He throws an arm over his eyes until he feels little vibrations next to him. Harry is trembling. Moving to cuddle him again, Harry tries half-heartedly to shuck him off, but Draco holds him tightly in his arms.

“Baby…”

“Stop calling me that.” Then, with a whisper, “There’s no winning with you, is there?”

Sensing no right answer, Draco stays silent and kisses his back, causing Harry to shiver. He wouldn’t know what to say, in any case. He could mean that he lost in his attempt to stave off his orgasm. He could mean that he thought he was losing him to Blaise. In either case, words would be useless, so he holds him close, praying for sleep to come.

______________________________________________________________________________

Draco wakes up in a fright after only an hour of sleep to a cold, empty bed. It's morning. He searches everywhere in the house for Harry, but he’s gone without so much as a note. It’s the weekend and the wives have the kids so the plan was for Harry to stay at Malfoy Manor. Worry overtakes him as he commences his morning shower. He finishes quickly plagued with thoughts of Harry.

Perhaps, he simply needs some time to himself, he thinks, as he dresses in riding gear, intending to take his mind off his troubles by spending the day with his horses. As he stands in front of the mirror, taking in his sand colored breeches, black knee high boots, and fitted black polo shirt, he remembers that it drives Harry mad with lust to see him dressed like this.

“Looking sharp!” the mirror exclaims. 

He smiles as he hears Harry calling him his “handsome prince” in his mind. He makes a split second decision to surprise him at Grimmauld Place, donning a black cloak and disappearing into the floo.

When he arrives, he’s greeted by Harry laughing on the ground while his kids tackle him on the floor. It makes him smile…until Harry catches sight of him and his smile falters. Harry’s whole face falls, and his children stare at Draco as if he were an exotic beast.

“Auror Malfoy, did a case come up?”

Draco’s eyes furrow in confusion. The children glance from their father to Draco as if a fight is going to break out.

“No.”

“Okay. How can I help you?”

With a sting to his ego, Draco realizes that he intends to treat him as no more than coworker in front of his children. Blaise’s words float back to him, and he’s seized with a sick desire to tell them that their beloved father was begging “Auror Malfoy” to fuck him like a whore, only last night. He doesn’t know what Harry’s playing at as they’re all old enough to understand what’s going on, but he relents. Hoping his face betrays none of the anguish he feels within, he steps back into the floo and vanishes without a word.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

When Draco gets back to the manor, he staves off the urge to weep by taking to the stables. He rides his horse, Prince, long and hard, until his hands cramp up from holding the reigns too tightly. Upon return, Harry is casually leaning against the wooden stables with his arms crossed, his enormous biceps bulging in a crisp white t-shirt and dark denim jeans. His face is blank again, unreadable.

“Ginny had something this morning so I had to run to Grimmauld to watch the kids,” he states flatly. Draco feigns deafness and doesn’t look at him. Slapping that emotionless expression off his face is all he can think of as he dismounts and pulls Prince to the stables, determined to ignore Harry.

While brushing Prince’s mane, he feels large calloused hands grabbing his ass. He drops the brush and turns around to push Harry off angrily. He stumbles, but comes back at him hard, groping his body everywhere, palming his cock through his trousers.

Draco pushes him far enough to slap him hard across his face.

Harry startles and pauses in shock. A large red handprint is forming on his cheek, and his eyes darken with lust. He pulls Draco close to him by his belt and kisses him brutally, thrusting his tongue into his mouth. Draco turns his face away, and he attacks his neck instead.

“No…stop!” Harry’s shirt is clutched in his fists as he tries to push him off, but he’s too strong to hold back.

“I can’t. You’re so fucking sexy in your riding clothes,” he moans. 

“Fuck you, Auror Potter,” he spits out. Draco is livid.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” and he pulls out Draco’s erect cock, stroking it with practiced precision.

With his calloused hands working his cock, all his blood rushes south, away from his brain. He stalks forward and pushes him backwards, turning him to slam his body hard against the wall. Harry’s forehead bangs against the wood and he groans in pain. The stables sways dangerously. Making quick work of his trousers, he pushes them down with his boxers just far enough to expose his ass. He doesn’t have his wand on him, so he holds his cheeks apart and spits between the cleft, using his fingers to wet his hole.

He gasps in anger when he realizes Harry’s already slick with lube. Using his forearm to push the back of his neck into the wooded wall, he twists his right arm behind his back.

“A little presumptuous, are we?”

“Just prepared. Now shut up and fuck me,” he commands.

Draco should remove his belt and lash him until he screams. He should leave him with his pants down, ass marked red, and never look back. His Dom is screaming at him to punish him and leave him, but he can’t. He spanks his ass fours times in quick succession then brutally shoves his cock inside his hole. Grabbing hold onto Harry’s shoulders for leverage, he fucks him so fast and hard that Harry’s screaming. The wall is rattling loudly, and it sounds like war. He doesn’t care about Harry’s pleasure and doesn’t want him to enjoy it, in any case. The stable’s walls are shaking ominously and Draco thinks for a moment that the whole structure might collapse on top of them. It’s been standing since before his grandfather’s time, but he doesn’t care enough to stop. He reaches over to pinch one of Harry’s nipples through his shirt, twisting the nub painfully, earning a yelp.

The wall is rattling more as Harry continuously bangs against it, and it can’t hold both their weights. A single wooden panel cracks apart and they both break through, tumbling to the grass outside. Harry falls hard on his stomach and Draco crashes on top of him.

“Umph!” Harry exclaims as he lands, waving a hand behind him.

The shock of sunlight isn’t enough to stop his hips from thrusting. Blind with rage and lust, he drives into him even harder, slapping his flesh with his thighs, grunting like an animal, as if he’s truly trying to hurt him, which he is. He holds onto his shoulders hard enough bruise and continues to deliver hard punishing thrusts until the heat of climax surges inside of his body and he’s roaring through his orgasm.

When the trembling stops, he rolls off Harry with his eyes closed and tries to catch his breath. He imagines the sight he made, lying on the grass in broad daylight with his half hard cock out.

Worried about the horses, he peeks at the stables and is relieved to see them still standing. Finally, he chances a glance at Harry who’s rolled onto his back, staring at him with a lopsided smile.Draco feels a mixture of disappointment and elation when he sees Harry’s cum staining the grass between them.

“Wow,” Harry laughs softly, delirious.

Rolling his eyes, Draco stands and tucks his wet cock inside his trousers, buttoning them quickly. He intends to go back to the manor without waiting for him to catch up. Harry grabs his hand and he’s pulled backwards and around, connecting with his mouth. He gives him a deep sensual kiss and pulls away from Draco, smiling.

‘You’re hurt,” Draco says softly, his face etched with worry. There’s a nasty looking gash over his right eyebrow. He must have hit the wood very hard.

“And you…fuck like a stallion,” he grins.

Draco sighs, filled with remorse for fucking him roughly enough to draw blood. He grabs Harry’s hand and drags him back to the manor.

Pushing him roughly to sit down on his green velvet couch in the parlor, he casts a few healing charms on his eyebrow watching the red gash vanish, leaving only dried blood behind. He uses a wetted clean handkerchief with the Malfoy insignia to wipe it away.

“Sad Dragon,” Harry says softly, stroking his left cheek.

He isn’t aware of his facial expression but the soft touch gets him all teared up. Thinking it’s the sleep deprivation, he gets up and turns around to hide it, crossing his arms.

“Don’t you have to get back to the children? I don’t want to hold you up, Auror Potter.”

“Ginny only needed me to watch them this morning…I’m sorry, Draco. I don’t know why I behaved that way. Even the kids got mad at me for being a prat to you. They know about us…I talk about you all the time.”

“Sure you do.”

Harry hugs him from behind and he instantly melts into his touch. It’s enough to vanquish his doubts and worries, and he hates himself for it. His skin burns where Harry’s lips rest on his neck. A few minutes go by with Harry just holding him. 

“You know, the stables were about to collapse but I sent some magic to hold it up. I don’t know how long it’ll last,” he says with smile in his voice.

Draco can’t help a chuckle escaping and turns around to see Harry grinning proudly.

“Look at you. Preening over getting fucked hard enough to make buildings fall down.”

Harry shrugs, smiling wide. “I guess I am a little proud. It’s so hot when you lose control.”

Draco doesn’t know what to say to that, but he thinks of Harry’s last words to him the previous night. _There’s no winning with you, is there?_ Draco feels the same way. Even though he was the one who fucked him within an inch of his life, Harry’s somehow won this round. And after treating him like trash in front of his children. Losing control is not part of the job description for a Dom or for a Malfoy. Frustration overtakes him, and he marches up the stairs for a long bath. Sensing he somehow said the wrong thing, Harry doesn’t follow right away.

As he settles into the warm waters, he closes his eyes and tries to clear his mind. That hardly lasts a minute before Harry is towering over him with his grass-stained white shirt tight around his hulking biceps. He’s wrecked. There’s mud all over his arms and in his hair.

“Can I join you?”

Draco shrugs his shoulders. Harry disrobes slowly, wincing in the process, and it gives him a thrill to know he’s not as unaffected by the brutal sex as he appears to be. His Herculean body is on display, and Draco realizes that he looks more trim, as if he's not eating as much as usual. He used to have a little pudge in his stomach, but it's gone, though his muscles are still in tact and look more defined than ever. He settles in the tub across from him, and Draco bends his knees up to give him space. Harry leans forward and kisses his wet knees, rubbing his stubbled cheek on them, sighing.

“You drive me mental,” Harry says softly.

“Feeling’s mutual.”

Harry leans back, soaking his aching muscles and dips his head underneath the water to wet his hair. Mud stains the bath water and with a wave of his hand, it’s clear again.

Draco snorts.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Show off.”

Harry grins sadly. “All this power amounts to nothing with you…I’m still one of two.”

Draco dips his head under this time, desperate for the silence of an underwater world. He stays there a long time, holding his breath. He wonders if he could drown himself to put himself out of this misery. Harry’s preoccupation with Blaise is like a dark cloud over his head. Suddenly, a memory of Blaise floats to the surface from long ago. After a full minute, Harry pulls him up from the water roughly.

“What are you playing at?”

“Relax. I’m fine.”

“How’d you learn to hold your breath so long?”

Draco pinks slightly and remains silent.

“Well?”

“Do you really want to know? You’re not going to like it. It involves Blaise.”

“Tell me.”

"The Malfoy grounds have a pool. Over the summer break during our Hogwarts days, Blaise and I used to see how long we could...kiss underwater.”

Harry pales but tries to play it cool. He’s the one who asked.

“Oh yeah? How long did you manage?”

“90 seconds.”

Harry’s face hardens back to blankness, but he tries to keep his voice nonchalant.

“Wow…long time.”

Draco shrugs.

“What year were you in?”

“5th year, I think.” Draco's stroking Harry’s calf under the water as he’s speaking.

“You’ve been fucking around with Blaise since 5th year till now and you call it ‘casual’? Sounds like a lot more than that to me.”

“We didn’t start fucking until 7th year. Times were tough. We needed release.”

“Were they tough? Oh, I don’t remember. That was the year there was a megalomaniac controlling the world right?”

“Yes, Harry. The one you defeated,” Draco said exasperated, hoping this wasn’t going to disintegrate into another fight. 

“That’s right. I remember now. Not easy to forget the most terrifying time of your life, out on the run as a fugitive with absolutely no blasted idea of what you’re doing, or if you’re going to live the next second. Hundreds died every day at the hands of your lord, and I remember listening to their names, feeling responsible…What a comfort it is to know that while I was doing all that, you were sticking your prick inside Blaise in the lush dorm rooms of Hogwarts. Tell me, was he calling you master then? Did you tell him it was for life? Or was there a conflict of interest, as you had your own master to serve?”

Draco stood from the tub, livid that Harry was throwing his tainted past in his face. He’d never done so before. Harry’s face was hard and flat as he looked up at him, daring him to make a counter.

The minute he lets his guard down, Harry turns around and backstabs him.It’s been like this since he offered him the contract, and he doesn’t know how much longer he could tolerate it without turning to drastic measures. He couldn’t break up with Harry over this. He knew he was doing this from a place of hurt, so he was stuck. His anger burned hotter when he thought that he was probably to weak to leave him, in any case.

He stormed into his room, one hand in his hair, trying to pull it out. He dressed in his robe, filled a glass with firewhiskey and went out onto the balcony, slamming the French doors behind him. It seemed like it was Harry’s goal in life to drive him stark raving mad. He felt like a raw nerve, frazzled and helpless. Edging into madness on lack sleep, lack of power, and a shattered sense of self. He felt worthless, filled with shame and remorse over his part in the war, thanks to Harry’s reminder.

The sun was setting over the Malfoy grounds beautifully with oranges and purples streaking the sky. He leaned against the railing watching the sun dip lower. Itwas usually a sight that filled him with tranquility, but all he could think of now was ending all his troubles by leaping over the rail. He thought of Dumbledore. Of his role in Dumbledore’s death, his limp body falling from the tallest astronomy tower and the sheer terror that gripped his heart to see it. Somehow, he thought that Dumbledore could never die, but he did, right in front of him, _because_ of him. If it was a good enough death for the greatest wizard he’d ever known, then it was good enough for him. Scorpius had his mother; he’d be fine. He had no friends to miss him or parents to mourn him. It would be so easy…

He sighed miserably as heard the French doors open behind him.

“What are you doing?”

Draco didn’t answer, but he stepped away from the rail and sat back in the patio chair. Harry sat next to him.

“Drake, look at me.”

“Don’t call me that,” he meant to say it hatefully but his voice was soft and broken. Only Blaise was allowed to call him Drake. He was suddenly feeling very protective over him. Blaise has never, in twenty years, made him feel this way. He forgot him for a moment, during his mental breakdown, but he remembered now. Blaise would be the only one to truly mourn him after he was gone.

Harry slid off his chair to kneel in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For those terrible things I said in the tub. About the war. I don’t even think those things about you, ever.”

Draco sipped his firewhiskey, his throat burning from more than just the alcohol.

“I just…I don’t know. I know I’m being a prick. I’m sorry. Every time Blaise comes up, I just…lose it. I lash out any way I can. And then that story of you two kissing underwater as boys… Draco, I wanted to die just hearing it, knowing Blaise still has a claim over you, all these years later. And I know I asked for it, so it’s not your fault…It’s just impossible to compete with that. Can’t you see? How am I suppose to compete with those kind of memories? I love you. I think I love you more than anyone’s ever loved a person. I worship you. I kneel for you. I wear the collar with pride. And I feel like you still care about him. Still want him, even. I could tell you miss him sometimes, and it’s torture. I feel like I’m not enough. I feel like that’s why you keep his contract.”

Draco sighed, feeling doubly horrible now. He was too busy focusing on his own wounds that he couldn’t see how deep Harry’s went.

“Harry, I chose you. And I tell you all the time it wasn’t a choice. If I still wanted Blaise, I could have him, but I don’t. You’re the only one I want. I miss him as friend sometimes, but that’s all. I certainly don’t miss him enough to invite him back into my life. I’m doing everything I can to show you how much I love you. You’re letting a meaningless piece of paper destroy us.”

“I need it gone Draco. I need it gone. Please,” and Harry starts tearing up.

Sighing miserably, Draco pulls him up on his knees so that Harry’s straddling him and hugs him. He’s trembling and Draco feels wretched inside. He needs to take care of this any way he can.

“Listen, Blaise is meeting David this weekend, and Mr. Wolfe tells me he’s one of the best in his acquaintance. I have high hopes that this will be resolved by next week. Okay?”

“You’ve been saying the same things for weeks.” he rasps into his shoulder.

“I mean it this time. Whatever I have to do, okay?”

Harry lets up and looks into his eyes.

“Promise?”

Draco looks into his eyes and sees the savior of mankind, a man who loves him so desperately, despite all his faults. A man who's willing to kneel and submit to him. He’s asking for this small thing, and he has to oblige him. He has no choice.

“I promise.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	14. Pipe Dream

After his emotional talk with Harry on the balcony, they have dinner together. Harry sits close and holds his hand, but Draco is thinking only of Blaise, of the terrible thing he will have to do if David isn’t enough to persuade him. He’s almost certain he won’t be, but he sends up a prayer anyway.

Harry strokes the top of his hand lovingly. “What are you thinking about?”

“Blaise.”

Harry pulls his hand back, but Draco grabs it before he can get away.

“I’m thinking about the awful thing I’ll have to do if David isn’t enough. I’ll have to hurt him, Harry.”

“Anything permanent?”

“Well…no.”

Harry shrugs. “I don’t see the problem, then. Blaise is a big boy. He’ll recover. The only thing that won’t recover is your relationship afterwards…Is that what you’re really worried about, Draco?” he asks softly, not meeting his eyes.

Draco thinks on it for a moment, and realizes, finally, that Harry...is not wrong. He might have to hurt him, and he’ll hate himself for it, but Blaise will recover. What won’t recover is their friendship. It feels like the rug will be pulled out from underneath him to lose Blaise’s love and trust. He has the startling realization that Harry has been right, all along. He has been using Blaise as a fail-safe. He just didn’t know it. As much as he loves Harry, he always had nagging doubts that they might not last, that Harry might leave him one day. It seems unrealistic, the savior of the wizarding world and the deatheater, living happily ever after. Blaise has always been a permanent fixture in his life, one he’s taken for granted, but he’s comforted by the fact that he’s always there, waiting for him. The contract is his insurance policy. It is his safety net, and Harry knows it. He thinks about how he left his black sleeping shirt behind for Blaise, when he should have taken it, knowing now, he left it purposely so that Blaise could never forget him.

Draco is lost in thought all through dinner, but Harry doesn’t badger him, sensing he’s pushed him too far today already.

When they retire for bed, Draco is too worn down to do anything except sit on the edge of the bed in his briefs and stare out through his balcony. Harry kneels in front of him, dressed only in his boxers. There’s a short black chain around his neck that he’s never worn before. The links are large, and it looks like something one would wear to a BDSM club. Draco touches the cold metal. 

“This new?”

“Yeah…I like the feeling of something around my neck.”

Draco gives it an experimental tug and Harry jolts forward with a soft gasp.It makes Draco smile, and Harry takes it as encouragement.

“…I’m so sorry about today, Draco. I’ll never say such things again. I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

Draco nods solemnly.

“And you know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Draco looks down at him and his face is no longer blank and expressionless. His eyes are sparkling up at him, and his expression is pained, as if he’s wounded by his love for him. He’s waiting for Draco to nod in understanding, but Draco leans back, flat on the bed, because it hurts to look at him when he’s wearing his heart on his sleeve and a chain around his neck. As he stares at the ceiling with his feet planted firmly on the ground, Harry kneeling between his bent knees, he almost wishes for the blank expression back because it’s easier to deny him what he wants when he’s wearing it.

Harry lays his cheek on his clothed groin, thinking. He knows he crossed a line today and prays to all the gods that he isn’t pushing him away with his insane jealousy and inane behavior. But Draco has to understand that Harry simply has no choice. He has to push him to let go of Blaise completely. He knows deep down that he hasn’t yet, regardless of what he says. It’s not just a piece of paper. He can see it in his eyes when Blaise is mentioned; there’s always a tenderness there that Draco doesn’t realize he’s expressing.Even today when he told the story of the underwater kiss, his eyes softened at the memory, and it was like taking the _cruciatus_ curse.

The image of Draco in white robes standing across from him as they exchange vows flashes in his mind. Razor sharp because he’s imagined it so many times, thinking of everything down to the white peonies. If he can’t let go of Blaise, it will never come to fruition. Tears spring to his eyes when he thinks of the rings he’s already had commissioned for both of them, solid titanium with both the Malfoy and Peverell coat of arms engraved on the inside. He placed the order on Sunday, right after they returned from Paris. He told Draco he was going to check on the kids, which he did, and went straight to Diagon Alley afterwards to have them made before joining him for horseback riding…before the contract.

He wonders if will all be just a wasted dream, and he starts trembling, like always, when he thinks that it will be. He wishes he didn’t want it so badly, then maybe he could behave like a sensible human being, instead of lashing out at the one he loves.

The one year mark looms closer, and Draco drifts further away. By his own hand. The harder he tries to hold on, the more he feels Draco slipping through his fingers. He tries shutting him out instead, adopting a colder nature, but that only backfires. And then, he’s just angry. Angry for getting his hopes up and ordering the rings, flying high off their Paris trip. Merlin forbid he wants one thing in his life and gets it. He’s angry all the time. Wanting to hurt Draco for hurting him, intentionally or not. Wanting him to feel an inkling of the pain that he feels, and he knows it’s wrong, but he doesn’t know what to do anymore. He knows he needs to stop thinking about the future, but he can’t help it, and he’s destroying everything in front of him trying to reach it. He senses Draco will leave him soon, and he’ll just have to endure. He expects it. Practices his blank hard face in the mirror to be prepared for when it happens.

Enough tears stream down his temple that Draco’s briefs get soaked, and he finally notices.

“Baby…please. Don’t.” Draco pets his hair.

Harry wipes his face, embarrassed, but they keep coming.

“…Stop. I said I’d take care if it,” he pleads. 

“I’m fine,” he blubbers, “just an emotional day.”

He thinks of how he hurt Draco in front of his kids after telling them that he planned to marry him. He thinks of their brutal sex in the stables, feeling like he was truly mounted by a stallion instead of a man, feeling Draco’s pain with each thrust. Thinks of his heart shattering in the bath tub and pleading on his knees on the balcony at sunset.

“Tell me about it. Any more emotion and I’ll self destruct.” Draco says, covering his eyes with his hands.

Harry removes his briefs because they’re soaked with tears…and because he can’t be near him without craving. Any time he’s rejected him, it’s like a double edged sword and only leaves him hard and aching. He guides his cock in his mouth. He feels a low groan vibrate through as his lips close around it. Draco shifts so his legs are spread more, welcoming the distraction. Then his hand comes down on Harry’s head. His fingers lace gently through his hair.

Hot tears spill down Harry’s cheeks, but Draco just pulls him closer…and closer, so he’s choking. As Harry’s eyes leak, he blows him. He does it because he can’t not. This is why he has a mouth. This is what his body is made for.

He’s lodged in his throat. Harry closes his eyes and works him with his lips and tongue and cheeks and hands that tremble, and he groans. He feel Draco’s legs quake. His fingers dig into his scalp. Draco thrusts deeper into his throat, using him the way he likes to be used, and Harry’s cock is full and thick and throbbing. Then he squeeze his balls, and he spends with a tremor and a loud groan.

He swallows it all and wipes his eyes before he moves him out of his mouth. When he looks up at his face, his eyes are closed. Then he looks at Harry and his lips pull tight at the corners. It’s that secret smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Harry’s chest aches...His cock aches too, but he knows Draco will be ready for him again in a matter of minutes, so he climbs onto the bed and waits.

He can tell Draco is drifting between sleep and wakefulness, even though it’s only nine o’ clock. He’s so tired that he doesn’t shift from his position at the edge of the bed. One arm is thrown over his eyes. If Harry wasn’t so desperate for him, missing him when he’s lying right next to him, then he would have let him sleep. Harry’s kept him up all week with his madness. He knows, because he wasn’t sleeping either.

Five minutes go by and Harry rubs his erect cock on Draco’s thigh and starts stroking him. His hole is already stretched and slick with lube from a preparation charm he cast on himself while he was waiting.

“I'm so tired, baby. In the morning.” His voice is scratchy with sleep and it’s so sexy, it just makes Harry harder. Harry’s too desperate to relent, feeling he might die from a poison, and the only antidote is Draco's cock. Until last night, he’d been denying himself for a week.

“Let me do all the work,” he whispers. Draco groans in objection but allows Harry to straddle him anyway.

He holds Harry’s hips steadily so that he doesn’t fall back onto the floor. Harry works their cocks together with calloused hands until they’re both hard and groaning. He doesn’t understand how Draco’s dick just works all the time, even after a week of no sleep. The man’s libido is limitless.

“Always so ready for me.” 

“I said I’m tired, not dead,” he says with a half smile.

Harry can’t wait any longer. He needs to feel him. He craves the sharp sting and burn of his heavy cock breaching his entrance, so he impales himself onto it, sinking himself fully, and they both moan. Leaning his hands back on Draco’s thighs for leverage, he begins to move.

Draco’s thick cock feels so good inside him that it instantly burns away every coherent thought. That peaceful blankness is what he’s after, and he moves over him with abandon, working him hard and fast, undulating his body with expertise. Every thrust of his hips empties his mind and he feels nothing except the sweet swarm of pleasure coursing through his body. The head of his leaking cock is scraping Draco’s hard toned abs, leaving a trail of pre-cum behind. It looks sort of beautiful glistening on his perfect porcelain skin, so beautiful that Harry can’t look. He closes his eyes as he moves over him, and for several minutes he’s moaning like a bitch in heat, but he doesn’t care. When he opens them, he sees Draco watching him with half-hooded eyes, and his hands are behind his head as if he’s lounging at the beach, but his expression isn’t relaxed. His eyes are furrowed like he’s in pain, and Harry realizes that despite everything, Draco is wounded by his love for him too.

When their eyes connect, Draco yanks his chain to pull him down for a kiss, and it’s so sweet that Harry feels himself tearing up again. He gasps when Draco uses his leverage from his feet on the ground to thrust upwards and control the pace, and the tears vanish to be replaced by pounding pressure. Holding his ass up steadily, Draco drives up into him from below as if he’s punishing him, fast..faster. Harder. Harry strokes his cock desperately, gasping for air, feeling every pounding vibrate through his prostate to the rest of his body. All he could do is brace himself on Draco’s chest with his free hand as his climax rises up and his noises reach a fever pitch. He yells out his orgasm as jets of cum spurt over Draco’s chiseled stomach. Almost immediately, he feels his hole filling up with burning viscous heat, and this. This is his favorite part. Being filled with his hot seed.

He’s flying, feeling lighter. His orgasm gives him temporary reprieve from the weight of his pain. He thinks, in that moment, that he truly is his whore, because if this is all he’s offering…he’ll take it.

____________________________________________________________________________________

Harry receives an urgent memo Sunday morning, calling him into an emergency meeting. He tells Draco he will be spending the rest of Sunday with his kids and will arrive at the manor in the evening. Draco says he’s going to work on the contract. Knowing that means he has to see Blaise, he tries to put it out of his mind and hope for the best. When he arrives at the ministry, the department heads are all there with their assistants. His blue-eyed, red-haired assistant gives him a warm adoring smile.

“Auror Potter, so nice to see you in weekend clothes,” she winks.

Harry resist the urge to roll his eyes. He’s only wearing black cargo pants and a fitted black button up. It makes him think of Draco’s style, and he tries to emulate it. No one could pull it off like him, he thinks wistfully. His new assistant flirts heavily with him every chance she gets, and Harry regrets initially being receptive as part of his plot against Draco. He can’t find it in himself to be rude to her. Goes against the sweet savior image. Besides, all the women he flirts with know about his relationship with Draco. He’s sure they only think of him as their gay flirty friend.

All the heads of the department are called away to Germany for an emergency meeting over an outbreak of a magical sickness that’s torn through parts of Asia. It’s a more aggressive version of spattergroit, but some of those affected are not recovering and others have died from the disease. It’s highly unusual and there’s suffocating tension in the conference room, for fear that it could spread to the magical population of England. Their numbers are only just recovering, having sustained heavy losses from the war. It’s with a sick twisting in his gut that Harry thinks there could be an enemy with no face, claiming the lives of thousands.An enemy he’ll be useless against. All his power amounting to nothing, once more. It makes him think of Draco.

“But can’t they find a cure? Have we contacted St. Mungo’s?”

“No one has seen anything like this before. It’s new. We’re hoping to find answers in Germany. Auror Potter, I’m hoping you could convince Hermione Granger to come with us. We could use her expertise,” Shacklebolt says. 

“Yes. Of course. It’s not a problem.”

“We leave early Monday morning by international portkey…Dismissed.”

___________________________________________________________________________________________

While Harry spends the day away, Draco is seized with the desire to visit Blaise to find out how it went with David. No matter his hesitancy, he loves Harry too much to lose him over this. Feeling Harry’s pain keenly last night makes him want the contract gone, once and for all. He floo calls Blaise and is relieved to see him returned from France. He asks after Pansy.

“Pansy’s out shopping. Come through.”

Blaise is in his lounge clothes, fresh from a shower. His blue eyes are sparking like the ocean on a hot summer day, and he looks mythical, like the son of Poseidon. He’s wearing a flitted blue V-neck shirt and grey joggers.

“You look happy,” Draco notes.

“Yeah…had a really good time in Paris,” and he flashes him his warm smile. “Thanks Drake. He was great.”

Draco is tempted to ask details but holds himself back. It’s just the sick curiosity of his Dom acting up. And besides, this is wonderful news.

Blaise makes them both a fresh mojito, knowing it’s Draco’s preference on Sunday afternoons. Draco gets really close to him, watching him make it with practiced hands. The smell of him, his fresh cologne mixed with his body’s natural clean scent, hits him hard enough to make him feel light headed. He steps back because it causes a flood of memories to break through. Blaise turns his head to look at him, smiling, as if he knows exactly what he’s thinking.

“Watching me, huh? You always did like to watch…perv.”

Draco blushes. He did always like to watch, especially the sight of Blaise on his knees, sucking his cock, his thick black eyelashes fluttering. And _god,_ the fucking memories keep breaking through. Not that he’s tempted, but Draco thinks it’s best to maintain distance, so he takes a seat on his green velvet couch. It suddenly dawns on him that he purchased one just like it for his own home, recently. He always loved Blaise’s style.

“So…how’d it go,” Draco asks. 

“Great.”

They sip their mojitos in silence.

“And…”

“And what?”

“Blaise, don’t be coy. How great are we talking?”

“Really great. He made me feel things I’ve never felt before. His methods are…special.”

Draco can’t help feeling a sharp sting to his pride, but he ignores it. This is what he wants, he reminds himself.

“That’s wonderful news.”

“Sure…Nice to have a playmate in Paris.”

“Wolfe tells me he spends half his time in London.”

“I know.”

Another few sips. Draco doesn’t know how to breach the subject of contracts yet.

“But he’s not you, Drake.”

A thrill of delight, his pride puffs up, and then he feels sick to his stomach. He’s pathetic for still wanting Blaise’s affections. He knows, right then, that Harry’s been absolutely right to be a bastard to him. He chastises himself. He wants to whip his own back with the flogger.

“I know what you’re after…and I can’t give it you, baby. I’m sorry.”

There was a time when Blaise calling him “baby” used to ignite his rage, now it only filled him with great sadness. He can’t be Blaise’s baby and knows he suffers for it. He can’t be what Harry needs either, and he can’t decide which of them suffers more. Draco sighs in anguish. All this pain he causes. He doesn’t think himself worth the aggravation. Two beautiful, special men pining over this brooding, selfish half-man. 

“Don’t do that. I hate to see that face,” Blaise says, frustrated now. He stands up and turns his back to him, crossing his arms.

“I know you have a new boyfriend and all, but what the fuck, Drake? The contract doesn’t hurt you. It doesn’t hurt Harry. It makes no difference for you two. Can’t you let me keep this small piece of us, just as a momento? It doesn’t affect your life in any way. You’d forgotten all about it, until recently.” He turns to face him.

"I still love you,” he says angrily. “Yeah, I know that’s pathetic, but I’ve loved you for years, probably since Hogwarts. Believe me, I wish I didn’t. Are you so heartless that you won’t let me have this small thing?”

Draco looks up into his pleading gaze and he looks so sad, so beautiful in his heartbreak, that Draco just wants to hug him, so he does. He stands up to embrace him. Blaise pushes his face against his cheek, his body tight against Draco's. 

“I miss you goddamn much that I can’t breathe sometimes,” his voice is broken as he talks near his ear, like he’s about to cry, so Draco holds him close, unable to bear it. Blaise buries his face in his neck and inhales, holding him in a death grip and starts trembling.

“Shh…hey, you know what I thought about the other day?” Draco asks. He pulls away and is thankful that there are no tears, but his eyes are watery. He needs to take his mind off this.

“What?”

He takes Blaise to the couch to sit next to him.

“I thought about how we used to hold our breath underwater to see how long we could kiss without air. Do you remember?”

Blaise’s face breaks out into a full, beautiful smile. He’s all perfect, white teeth and shining eyes. 

“How could I forget? 5th year. 90 seconds, personal best…bet we can go for longer, if we try…”

Draco stands up and walks towards the edge of the room. He wants to floo out of there because he realizes he’s failed, miserably. Harry’s going to hate him, and he’d deserve it.

“You know that’s not possible Blaise. I’m with Harry now.”

“Harry doesn’t have to know. I’ll make the unbreakable vow, and I swear, no one finds out.”

“I can’t. I love him.”

Blaise slams his mojito on the glass table and it startles Draco. He jumps.

“So what? Can you honestly tell me that you feel nothing for me?”

Draco bows his head, his back turned to him. He thinks about it. The obvious answer is no, of course not, but it might be a lie. He’s not sure. He tries for it anyway. For Harry.

“I don’t,” he says softly.

Blaise comes up behind him and turns him around so that they’re face to face. His large hands grip Draco’s arms and his touch burns through his clothes. His full lips are parted invitingly. Close up, Draco sees his stubble and remembers how it feels when he’s dragging his face across his cock. His blue eyes are burning into him. Blood seems to be leaving his brain. His heartbeat picks up. He knows he doesn’t love Blaise the way he loves Harry, but Blaise was always able spark something in him.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that.”

He tries again, hoping to convey truth.

“I don’t,” he says firmly.

Blaise searches his eyes, glances at his lips...then releases him roughly, walking away. He stands at a distance with his back to Draco.

“You’re a fucking liar…you know how I know that? You’re getting hard.”

Draco looks down and realizes, to his horror, that he’s right. _Fuck._ He feels humiliated, caught. If Harry could see him now...Disgusted with himself, he wills his cock down with thoughts of Harry’s heartbreak, and it works.

“You may not love me, but you still want me. Lie to yourself all you want. Lie to Harry. But don’t you dare fucking lie to me, Draco. I deserve better than that,” he says angrily.

He approaches Blaise, wanting to smooth things over to possibly negotiate something, anything. A break in the contract contingent on certain terms that he can’t quite think of at the moment. He touches his shoulder.

“Don’t touch me…since when do you lie to me? You need to leave.”

Draco draws back his hand with a sinking feeling in his gut and floos back to Malfoy manor.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco mopes around his house all day, drinking. He’s dreading the moment Harry walks through the floo and has to tell him that he’s failed, yet again. He thinks about his conversation with Blaise and feels a deep remorse over how badly things went. He practically almost kissed the man, driven by pure lust, and he’s so sick about it. He remembers what Blaise told him when he found out about his affair with Harry. _Always thinking with your cock._

He knows, without a doubt, his love for Harry is unshakable and steeped deep into his soul, sewn within the very fabric of his being. He couldn’t imagine living without him.

He could, however, imagine living without Blaise. Though Blaise undoubtedly sparks his desires, and he mourns for the pain he causes him, he’s always considered him as no more than a friend with benefits. Someone he loves, to be sure, but nothing could compare to the avalanche of sickening love he feels for Harry. The kind that makes it hard to breathe. Hard to sleep. Hard to eat. He swallows the bile that works up his throat when he thinks of his hard, expressionless face, turning, and walking out on him.

Then, a new sickness roils his stomach. He knows what he has to do. He has to hurt Blaise.He’s just not sure he has that kind of strength. But he has to. If he’s forced to choose between losing Blaise and losing Harry, it’s not a choice.

He’s sprawled out on his couch like a slob when someone tugs his bottle of firewhiskey from his hand. He looks up to his savior. He looks particularly intimidating this evening in an all-black ensemble, but also sexy as hell. His expression is gentle.

“Baby…what happened?”

“I’m a failure. I failed you.”

His face hardens. “How so?”

“He said he had a wonderful time with David, but…he won’t break it. I’m going to have to hurt him, Harry.”

Harry lets out a sigh of relief, and his face softens. “I thought…nevermind.”

“You thought what?”

Draco looks at Harry, taking in his worried, vulnerable expression. It takes a minute to understand what it means through his alcohol addled brain, then it dawns on him.

“You thought I fucked him? Is that how little you think of me? Give me a little fucking credit, for merlin’s sake. I’m not just some degenerate pillock.”

Although he was a degenerate pillock, in his mind. But he’d never act on it!All he thought about was how guilty he felt even hugging Blaise, and it burned to know that Harry had such little faith in him.

“Yee of little faith,” Draco slurred, as he grabbed the bottle from Harry to take another swig.

“Okay…think you’ve had enough. You smell like the three broomsticks,” He pulled Draco up into his arms like he weighed nothing. The bottle swung lamely from his hand, and Draco dropped it. No matter, Neech would take care of it.

He buried his face in Harry’s strong chest. He smelled so good, like wood and rain, that musky oaky scent mixed with his cologne, and it made his mouth water.

“You smell good enough to eat.”

Harry said nothing, so he babbled on.“I wonder how many people want to devour _the chosen one_ , but no one more than me, I can promise you that.”

Finally, Harry let out a soft laugh. The sound thrilled Draco.

“God, I love you Harry. I love you fucking much. Don’t leave me. Whatever happens, don’t leave me. I’ll die without you.”

And then he was in the tub with warm bath water. Harry was bathing him with a soft washcloth, like he often did. Draco got lost in his eyes.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?”

Harry blushed. “You’re drunk.”

“No one more honest than a drunk man, and I declare you the most beautiful man in England! Inside and out. No one holds a candle to you Harry…I don’t deserve you,” he finished sadly.

Harry just kept bathing his drunk boyfriend, then Draco started tearing up.

“Maybe you should leave me. I deserve it. I’m nothing. I’m no one. And I keep hurting you. Hurting Blaise. You deserve so much better than me. Why are you with me? I’m worthless.”

Tears flowed freely down his face, alarming Harry, so he hugged him through the water, getting his shirt wet.

“Hey, shh. Stop it, Draco. What brought this on?” he asked softly.

“I just…don’t know if I can hurt him, Harry. The things he said today. Awful. So painful. I can’t even imagine it.”

Harry released him, his face hardening once more. He dropped the wash cloth in the tub and left the bathroom.

Draco stayed in the tub for a long time, sobbing his heart out. Cursing himself for drinking half the bottle, he had revealed too much. He stayed there for over an hour when Harry came to check on him, arms crossed, face unreadable.

“You’re pruning up. It’s time to get out,” he said flatly.

Draco’s tears had stopped and he trembled at the sound of Harry’s voice. He hated when he sounded like that, with that flat facial expression to match. It felt like he was trying to reach him across a great void.When Draco didn’t move, Harry manhandled him roughly out of the tub and threw him into the bedroom. Draco almost fell, but he was able to stumble onto the bed and lie face first.

Harry threw a towel at him and lay a pair of briefs on the bed, but Draco didn’t move.

“For merlin’s sake, Draco. You’re getting the bed all wet.”

He lifted him to stand so he could dry him with the towel himself, but he swayed on his feet and almost fell sideways. Harry caught him, and his frustration was palpable. Draco didn’t know what he was getting so mad about. He must have forgotten he was a wizard and could use a drying charm on him, but Harry hated using magic for mundane tasks.

“You have a drinking problem. I’m sick and tired of it.”

"I'm a degenerate. Why do you bother with me?" 

Harry shakes his head sadly, as if he's the one that's the drunken fool. 

"Why do you think, Draco?" 

He pushed Draco to sit on the bed, none too gently, and knelt before him to put on his underwear for him. Draco stayed silent for a while. Honestly, he was a little afraid.

“I’m sorry,” Draco said softly.

“For what?”

For not being strong enough, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. So he leaned back on the bed. At the very least, alcohol promised sleep. He heard Harry shucking his clothes off like they’d offended him somehow, and he knew he was angry. He felt his frustrated magic lashing at his back as he crawled to his side of the bed and got under the covers.

“Harry?”

“What?” 

“Can you please hold me?”

A heavy sigh. No movement for a few minutes, then he felt Harry’s warmth behind him, and it was like swallowing the sun. Just to feel him. To be near him. 

_________________________________________________________________________________

There was no way for Draco to know that this was the last time he would see Harry for several days. He left to Germany the next morning, without so much as a note.


	15. Falling Apart

Draco wakes up the next morning to an empty bed. Harry’s not at work either, and he finds out from the secretary that all the department heads left for Germany in the wake of the magical healthcare crisis sweeping Asia.

“Didn’t Auror Potter tell you?” the secretary asked.

Draco just walks away, tormented by the fact that the last time he saw Harry, it wasn’t _him._ It was that flat-faced stranger, a man he’s never met before. He remembers enough from his drunken Sunday to know that the news about Blaise transformed him, and he was slipping further away. If he didn’t have this taken care by the time he returned on Saturday evening, then all would be lost. He’s sure of it.

Harry has never been away from him this long, and Draco misses him so much that it feels like a physical ache. Without his warmth, Draco hardly sleeps at night. It dawns on him that it’s more than just love, Harry is essential to his survival.He spends the entire week talking himself into doing the unthinkable to Blaise, until finally Saturday afternoon arrives, and he can’t put it off any longer. Blaise has brought this upon himself, left him no choice. Draco tried everything to convince him, and he refused. Now, he has to pay the price, but Draco knows instinctively, that he’s the one who will pay, in the end.

He’s already arranged to meet him and insisted on private time between the two of them, so Blaise sends Pansy on a spa vacation for the weekend, insisting she take his house elf to wait on her. His eyes practically glow when Draco asks for “private time.” It was their secret code.

Draco dresses in tailored black trousers and a fitted black v-neck short sleeved shirt. Nothing overstated. He doesn’t want to dress in leather because he doesn’t want Blaise to see it coming. He wants him to believe it’s spontaneous, that Draco can’t resist him.

It’s late afternoon when he arrives at Blaise’s manor. Blaise is lounging about in white linen pants and a white short sleeved button down shirt. The shirt is thin silk andthree buttons are undone so that Draco has view of his pecs. It makes his cock twitch.

“I can practically see your nipples.”

Blaise sticks a hand in his shirt and squeezes one to hardness, looking up at him coyly.

“You always loved my nipples.”

Draco rolls his eyes, pretending to be off-put. He needs Blaise to want him, but he doesn’t want to give too much, or Blaise will sniff him out. Draco holds out his arm, and Blaise knows it to mean he wants him to make the unbreakable vow. So he jumps forward excitedly, and Draco says the words. The silver hot tendrils surround their hands and wrists, sealing their fate.

Blaise rubs his wrist. “Where’s the boyfriend?”

“He’s out of town,” Draco says casually, as he walks to the liquor cart to fix himself a drink.

Blaise comes up behind him, stroking his arms.

“That so?…feeling lonely?”

“No…I just missed you,” Draco says softly as he leans back into him.

Blaise leans his head on his left shoulder and hugs around him, squeezing different parts of his upper body.

“What’s this? You’re buff now?”

“I put on fifteen pounds of muscle.”

  
  
“I can feel it,” Blaise says wistfully. “As if you could get any sexier. Trying to torture us poor sods?” Grabbing his lower waist tightly, he starts kissing his neck from behind. His hand starts inching down, towards Draco’s cock.

Draco swings his hand back and grabs Blaise’s cock painfully, eliciting a startled gasp.

“Feeling brave today?”

Blaise wasn’t allowed to to make the first move when it came to sex. That was at the core of their relationship. It was Draco’s job to initiate contact. Blaise leans out of his touch reflexively and backs away with a startled laugh.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry, but it’s been almost a year since I’ve been able to touch you. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

Draco turns to him with a practiced feral grin.

“Then you’ll just have to be punished, won’t you?”

Blaise smiles excitedly, then schools his face into a concerned look of consternation and fear. Putting his hands behind his back, he stands tall into display position, looking at the ground. Draco is panicking inside because he didn’t expect to jump into play so soon. He’s been preparing himself for this moment the entire week, but it’s still too soon. He tries to adopt a severe expression as he approaches Blaise. He needs to play this carefully.

Draco runs a finger over his defined jaw, down across his nipple and then puts his fingers inside his waist band, rubbing against his lower stomach, gently.

“Such a beautiful boy.” And he means it. Blaise seems even more beautiful than usual, in his all white ensemble, especially up close. He’d forgotten the perfect symmetry of his face.

Blaise blushes. 

Draco begins to unbutton his shirt, taking his time, teasing him. He pushes it off his shoulders to reveal his sculpted tanned chest, not overly muscled like Harry, but well defined. He unbuckles his belt and sinks to his knees to pull his pants down, knowing it drives Blaise mental when Draco kneels in front of him. By the time Blaise is standing only in his boxers, he’s fully erect. Draco stands and strokes his cheek lovingly, earning a shiver.

“But you’re never more beautiful than when you submit to me.”

Blaise drops to his knees. “I’m yours. Always…I love you.”

Draco turns his back to him, feeling like he’s already going to fall apart. The last time they truly did this, Blaise hadn’t yet admitted he loved him. He clutches his head in his hand, wishing he could just floo out of there and leave this behind. Sensing Draco’s about to bolt, Blaise speaks up.

“But I have been a bad boy…I accept your punishment, sir.”

Draco sighs, removing a collar from his pocket. This one is thin, not strong enough to bear a leash, but what it represents is undeniable. He turns and places it around Blaise’s neck. A shiver wracks his body.

“So long since we’ve done this. I can’t wait to please you, sir.”

“Come.” Draco leads him up the stairs. Blaise follows two feet behind like the perfect submissive he is. When they’re in his bedroom, Draco strokes his arms lovingly.

“Put on the leather harness. The one I like. Wait for me here.” He caresses Blaise’s neck and leaves to go to the playroom.

The first thing he does is conjure a small metal cage. He puts a black sheet over it, so Blaise doesn’t see it. He cast another spell to disillusion the sheet to act as a sort of invisibility cloak. The cage was Blaise’s hard limit as enclosed spaces have always been a deep rooted fear. Through time, however, Draco taught him to enter the cage willingly. As long as his master was in his line of sight, or he could hear him, Blaise didn’t panic. He casts a charm on it to automatically open thirty minutes after someone enters it, but he hopes he won’t have to use it.

Then he magic proofs the room, so that even if Blaise were to summon his house elf, Pippy, she wouldn’t come. Blaise won’t be able to cast even the most minor spells, wandlessly.Taking a deep breath, he slips into his Dom role, hoping he has the strength to see this through. He thinks of Harry’s love, unshakable and undeniable. He could do this, for him. He needed to get rid of that cold, distant face that hurts so much to see. He just wanted his Harry back. This is the key. It must be done.

In the leather harness, Blaise looks calm and ready. The leather crisscrosses his chest and lower back. His cock is encased in a pouch, but he's already hard. His dick is straining the leather. Draco doesn’t stir with lust the way he normally would because he knows what he has to do. He wishes he could treat him the way he deserves, but he puts on a good show anyway.

“My baby boy. So lovely. I just want to take that collar off and lick your whole body.”

Blaise laugh softly, blushing to the ground. Draco knows he won’t sacrifice the collar, no matter what he says.

“But, sir…I’ve been a bad boy, remember?”

“Oh, yes. Of course.” Draco feigns forgetfulnessand circles him, stopping behind him. Wanting Blaise to trust him fully, he leans close to his ear. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll sink my cock into that tight hole of yours. Would you like that, pet?”

Blaise trembles from longing, and when he speaks he voice is barely above a whisper. “Yes… please.”

“Come to the playroom.”

Blaise follows him to the dark red playroom.

“Assume the position.”

Blaise rushes to the spanking bench and lies flat on his belly. Quickly restraining his wrists and ankles, Draco practically flies to the toy box, wanting this over with as quickly as possible, returning with a blind fold so that Blaise won’t be able to turn and see his face.

“Tell me your words, baby.” He strokes his back softly with the flogger, the heaviest one in Blaise’s arsenal. He always asks for his words. If he didn’t, it would raise suspicion.

“Yellow for slow down. Red for stop.”

Draco braces himself and starts. He grips the leather whip tightly in his right hand and starts to work Blaise’s back with medium strength. 

“Ah..stings,” Blaise says after the first few blows.

Draco continues, hitting the sensitive spot just below his ass and Blaise flinches.

“Oh, sir. Stings so bad. Which flogger are you using?” He grips the handles, white-knuckled.

Draco doesn’t answer. He keeps whipping him, up to his shoulders now and Blaise flinches with every blow. His whole body is an angry red already, but he hasn’t broken.

“Sir! Please…talk to me.”

Draco just keeps wielding the whip. The flogger’s _whoosh_ as it swings through the air is just as ominous as the sound it makes when it cracks the skin. Blaise’s grip on the handles goes slack, and he finally breaks.

“Yellow.”

Draco stops, lulling him into a false sense of security, then standing back to deliver the sharpest blow yet, he brings the whip down with maximum strength right across his ass.

“Red. Red!”

A welt starts to form there and Draco hates himself for what he’s about to do next. He wishes he didn’t magic proof the room so he could conjure ear plugs. But he deserves to be haunted by this.

He uses his full strength to bring down the whip again and again, all over his back. Blaise screams in agony.

“Draco!! Please stop! RED!”

Draco doesn’t relent. He’s using his whole body to bring the whip down for maximum power.Blaise is wailing through an avalanche of tears that drip down to the red padded bench.

“Please!” He cries. “Stop. Draco. Why are you doing this!” He’s sobbing hysterically.

He ignores him, working him until skin finally breaks and then, there’s blood. Draco keeps going. Specks of blood start flying up at him. And he’s completely numb. Numb to the thing he’s doing. His movements are automatic. It feels like he’s watching himself doing it from a distance. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying.

“I can hear you crying! You fucking coward!” he screams through his sobs.

Draco pauses. Unable to do magic, he takes off his shirt and ties it around his mouth to muffle the sounds. Blaise is still sobbing but uses this opportunity to speak.

“You’re doing this for Potter, aren’t you? You fucking bastard. I’ll never release you from that contract! You’ll have to kill me first.”

Draco starts again, and the screams of agony are so severe that Draco thinks they’re being imprinted on his soul. But Blaise refuses to relent. Draco’s shirt keeps falling down to his neck and he realizes it’s because it’s soaked with tears. He ties it tighter and continues.

“It’s just pain…It’s just pain!” Blaise screams.

“A little to the left!” he laughs through his sobs, like he’s gone mad. Draco’s had to switch the whip to his left hand because his right hand is cramping up.

“You missed a spot!” He screams through his tears. Blaise’s entire back is covered in blood and angry welts. Draco is too wrecked to continue. And too tired. He’s been whipping him for twenty minutes straight at full power.

Draco drops the whip and walks to where he knows the cage to be. When fingers touch fabric, he removes the sheet. Walking back to Blaise’s weeping figure, he sees that he’s shaking so badly that it looks like he’s having a seizure. He unbuckles his ankle cuffs first, then his wrists. Blaise completely collapses onto the bench. He removes his blind fold so that he can see the cage, but doesn’t meet his eyes.

“No…no. Not the cage. Please, Draco. Please. I’ve love you for twenty years and I’m begging you. Don’t do this.” He sounds afraid, for the first time.

Draco takes him to the cage by dragging him across the ground by his wrists. He throws him in and the metal door slams shut, locking instantly. It’s barely big enough for Blaise to fit in. He has to lie on his side with his knees bent. Draco stands there for a moment with his back to him as Blaise rattles the cage desperately.

“Don’t you dare leave me here. Drake, please! I love you. Don’t do this!”

Draco walks forward, a stranger to himself, and leaves the playroom.

“Draco!…Drake! Let me out!”

When he exits, he feels an electric shock of paralyzing anguish and his legs won’t hold him. He sinks to the floor against the wall right outside the door. Holds his face in his hands. Tears stream down his face as he listens to Blaise’s screaming sobs. The fact that he’ll only be in there for thirty minutes doesn’t comfort him because Blaise doesn’t know that. He eventually stops calling for him and starts calling for his house elf, Pippy. She doesn’t come. When Blaise starts pleading for his dead mother, Draco realizes he has to get out of there or he risks losing any semblance of sanity.

He practically runs to the floo in Blaise’s parlor, straight to Grimmauld Place. It lands him on the street outside and Harry’s wards easily let him through. The house is dark and empty. It’s only then that Draco realizes he’s shirtless, and there’s little specks of blood on his arms. He unties the shirt from his face and wears it, charming the blood from his clothes and body. He’s soaked with sweat, but he can’t be bothered by that now. He searches the house, but Harry’s nowhere in sight. He should have returned by now. Perhaps, he’s still at the office.

He floos into the ministry, trembling. While walking towards the lifts, the security gaurd stops him.

“Auror Malfoy, do you need something, sir? A glass of water?”

Draco looks at him. His eyes look like…something.

“No.” He steps away. “No, thank you.”

He thinks to go in the men’s room—but he doesn’t stop. He goes right through the atrium which is empty. He has a flashback of Harry guiding him through the barrage of cameras when their affair first hit the papers. He feels his strong hand guiding him by his elbow through the crowd, and his throat closes. After the thing he’s done, he hopes he isn’t too late.

He doesn’t know if Harry will be here. Too impatient for the lifts, so he climbs the stairwell. Sweat drips from his elbows on the soft rubber stair tread. His pants are weighted down by his sweat, covered in the sins of his betrayal. His best mate. Gone forever. He opens the DMLE door.

Dark.

He may be gone. He walks a little farther. Past some desks, a sitting area, a fountain. There are paintings on the wall he never noticed before. Street lamps shine through some windows, painting a pale glaze on everything. He walks faster—and Harry’sdoor is slightly open. He can see its light from twenty yards away because of how the area is laid out; his door is punched into the center of a wall, the head auror door.

He walks faster. Suddenly, he has to see his face. Because he still believes that he will be the same man. His man. If he sees him and tells him what he’s finally done for him, then this will all go back to normal.

He sees her first. She’s small from behind—narrow shoulders and an even narrower waist. He sees her pale arm raised. It takes him a second—a second staring at the image stamped into his retina—to realize she’s melded to his side. Her arm is raised because it’s wrapped around his neck.

He hears her sigh. Something in his chest cracks. He feels it so much, he raises his hand to touch the place.

_They’re kissing._

That’s when they stop to breathe, and Harry looks right at him.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco understands now—why they run. Fairy tale princesses. Overwhelmed sensory kids, abused teenagers. Everyone who’s ever seen a horror, heard horrible news. When there’s a deatheater attack,they always run first and then disaparate.People run when they can’t bear it. When the energy inside is so great, there’s no way not to be demolished by the force of it. You have to move.

He runs straight up the stairs, out of the emergency exit and out onto the London streets. He notices Harry’s flying motorcycle parked outside, and if he could stop running, he might have sent a blasting charm at it. He knows people are staring, but his vision is blurring. Sweat is dripping into his eyes as he runs his heart out.

_You knew it would end._

That’s not true, though, he thinks dully. He’s a liar—to himself. All the signs were there. Blaise tried to tell him. He made sure he never knew the truth because if he had known, he would have had to stop. No one looks their own destruction in the face and says _bring it on._

His breaths feel… _not enough._ It’s so hard to get a good one. He pushes his lungs out, sucks in air. He’s still breathing like that when he finally apparates back to the manor. He lands in the foyer and the first thing he thinks is,

Firewhiskey. That’s what he needs. He flexes his hands and realizes they’re blistered—from holding the flogger too tightly. He can barely move the right one. Tears sting his eyes. He lets the damn things fall as he walks into the parlor. Then he drags in a deep breath and lifts his head.

Harry’s kneeling on the floor in from of him. Their eyes catch and hold, and he thinks…he looks sad. Or maybe somber. What he _doesn’t_ look is the same. The way he thought that if they saw each other, he would be the same—that was wrong.

“I’m sorry, Draco.” It’s barely a rasp. Draco steps closer, and he sees his eyes are red. His mouth is tight.

“Sorry for what?”

Harry rubs his hair, shaking his head. “I don’t know.” He blows a breath out. He won’t even look at Draco. “I just…” He shakes his head, his eyes meeting Draco’s briefly. “It was such a shock to me. I always thought if it came down to it…you’d break that contract with Blaise.”

Draco shakes his head. He can’t believe that this is what he’s saying to him right now.

“That is what you’re sorry for?” He thinks of the thing he just had to do,and he feels dead inside.  
  


“No. I mean—“

“Harry, I saw you kissing someone. Did you see me there?”

“No…I did.” Harry gets to his feet, moving towards him, then standing away. “She came with me to Germany,and—“

_“_ Who is she?”

His face pales. “Just my assistant. Draco, it—“

“Did you fuck her?”

Harry flinches. “I would never—“

“Did you ever fuck her?”

Harry’s mouth tightens. “Don’t say that.”

Draco sneers. “What was it, making love?”

“No.” Harry looks at him like he’s grown three heads. “What’s the matter, Draco? You look—“

_“_ Like you just wrecked my shit.” Draco can’t breathe. It’s so sudden. The room spins around him. Draco sees him realize.

Harry steps closer.

“Don’t come any closer to me!”

Harry’s face transforms—confused to anguished.

“I don’t want you near me. Can you leave?” Draco manages.

Harry’s eyes widen. Draco’s chest heaves. He shuts his eyes and says the damn words. The ones that bruise his heart. “We both know this can’t go on.”

He waits for Harry to say it’s not true. To say he loves him. To say that he would never have to live without him. That’s what he said. He said that he loved him.

A tear spills from Draco’s eyes, and then another. “I made a _mistake._ I’m not…” Everything blurs. _I should have never started this._

He hears himself say, “I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this bullshit with you anymore. I don’t want you, Harry. I’m fucking done.”

Draco can’t see his face when he says that. His vision is blurred. After he blinks, Harry’s face is hard and still. Harry’s eyes hold his, and they don’t seem like his eyes. They’re so cold.

“Are you sure about this?” Harry’s voice is low, an octave lower than normal.

Draco swallows hard, so he can whisper, “Yes.”

At the word, Harry takes a step back. He turns towards the floo, then stops and looks back at him.

“Draco?”

Draco’s so conditioned—such an animal—that hearing his name from Harry’s lips makes his pulse pick up.

Harry’s face falls apart for just a second. It’s so fast that afterwards, Draco questions whether it happened. He face twists like he’s going to sob—and then it locks down.

“You need to avoid me at the DMLE.”

And then he vanishes in the floo.

____________________________________________________________________________________


	16. Nothing

Draco owls the the auror secretary and Schacklebolt to inform them that his cousin has died in France. He’ll have to be in Paris for several days. He wishes he could take Scorpius with him, but he’s not fit company for anyone. He shudders to think of his son seeing him like this.

Every morning, Neech comes by with a fresh omelette and orange juice. He always insist on staying.

“But Master Draco, Neech isn’t wanting to leave you all alone. You is needing care.”

“Go, Neech.”

Neech’s eyes fill with tears as he takes in the state of his master. Unshaven, blonde stringy hair matted from being unwashed. Draco doesn’t know exactly how he looks because he avoids the mirror. He’s afraid of what he’ll see in his eyes. He can guess, as it’s reflected in Neech’s face. Neech sheds a tear and disapparates with a loud crack. He thinks, absentmindedly, how powerful elf magic is, that Neech can pop in and out of France with a snap of his fingers, while wizards are forced to travel long distances by international portkey.

Every morning, he has breakfast since it’s brought to him. Neech tries to deliver lunch and dinner, but he forbids it. It’s the only meal that he can bring himself to eat.

He sits in bed most days. It’s a king sized bed, just a mattress on a wood floor. He’s still in the middle of renovations and the walls are stripped. He was waiting for Harry to pick out the paint color. He clutches his chest, looking out of the window at the bustling Paris streets. He tries to shower once every two days. Sometimes, he moves down to the small couch for a little while, so he can say he left the bed.

He’s not moving around much—but his thoughts are. He replays the whole thing, mapping out the space between right now and their first kiss in the ministry showers all those months ago, using his auror skills like he might map out the crimes of a serial killer.

He thinks on the two of them, and all their actions. Everything Harry’s said and who he is, and what kind of bastard he, himself, is. And he finds, no matter how much he doesn’t want to, just one logical conclusion: Harry did love him. Probably, he still does.

But Harry’s so fucking _stuck._ So locked into his nonsensical jealousy…that he can’t live his life. He can’t follow through on any of his feelings. Not even the important ones. The worst thing is that he knows _why._ He should have told him the thing he did for him, that Blaise is certainly going to break the contract now. But he doesn’t know what he wants anymore. Their problems go way beyond the contract. They drive each other mental. Harry’s turned him into a miserable wreck the last few months. He feels unhinged, and he’s driven Harry to the brink, in turn. He wonders if it was the Dom/sub play that ruined them the way he always thought it would. It could be. The reasons don’t matter, the results do. They’re just…not good for each other. Not healthy. Too much emotion. He loves him, but it’s not enough.

Then, there’s the kiss. Draco doubts he’s fucking her, but it’s still a possibility. Maybe that’s what he was doing the days he wasn’t having sex with Draco. Maybe he will be happier with a woman. God knows it’ll make his life easier. Simpler.

The biggest shock from his time thinking through things in his stripped Paris chateau, is that he’s somehow still worried for him. He should be worried for himself, but all he can think about is Harry on his knees in front of him, crying his eyes out. Thinks of his heaving muscular body in the shower saying, _I’m not strong._ The past few months revealed a vulnerable side of Harry he’s never seen before. He carries so much pain inside of him. He supposes it’s natural, to worry for the sad hero. It seems unjust that he should carry such a weight inside, after all he’s been through. He thought he would be the one to ease that pain. All that time, Draco never really could…since he’s the one who causes it.

He has to stay away then. No matter how tempted he is to check on him. He takes a portkey back to England feeling just a little more human. He’s still fucking pissed off. That he kissed her, mostly. More than anything, he can’t snuff out the jealousy. That wound gets ripped open when he gets back to London, stopping in Diagon Alley for coffee. He hears some girls talking in the line in front of him about “The Savior” being “fuck goals.”

_Mine._

Except he isn’t.

If he really wanted Draco, he’d find him. He knows where his French chateau is. He never came. In the end, they’re together for three days at the DMLE without seeing each other. Harry spends most of his days shut up in his office or out on meetings in the wake of the aggressive spattergroit crisis. Draco takes the lifts downstairs instead of the stairs because he can’t bear passing by the supply closet. Then Harry’s gone, off to Germany again, and it truly feels like the end.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco knows he should feel freed. But he doesn’t. As the days pass, he finds that he feels…tangled.

On the third night he’s back, Blaise materializes in his floo. He looks…different, older somehow. Looking at Draco with pure loathing, he holds up an old piece of parchment in his hand. The edges are frayed and it’s completely yellowed. Draco realizes it’s the contract. He sets it down on the table without saying a word and pulls his wand out.

“Blaise, wait—“ Draco gets up to walk over to him, but gets hit with a curse that makes him fly back ten feet and land hard on the wooden floor.

Then Blaise is saying words in latin. Working his wand over the paper. It glows and floats off the table. It’s old magic. The bonding spell was looked up in an old Maloy tomb that dated back over a thousand years.

Blaise keeps repeating the same latin words, and waving his wand over the paper. He starts to sweat in frustration, as if the spell isn’t working. Then, finally there’s a small tear in the parchment.

“Ah!” Draco clutches his chest. He feels the tear there.

It’s not a metaphorical one like with Harry, it’s a physical acute pain, like someone’s taking a dagger to his insides. Blaise chants the words in latin louder. His voice is stronger. The tear lengthens more, but it does so slowly, as if the parchment is resisting. All the while, it feels like a muggle surgeon is carefully cutting out one of his ventricles. Draco starts sweating from the pain, clutching his chest, rolling on the ground like he’s having a heart attack. He’s gasping for air, until finally, the parchment rips in two and just like that, Draco’s heart is three chambers, instead of four. He feels for his pulse, and he's surprised it’s still there. There’s a deep ache inside, like a bruise he thinks will never heal.

Blaise appears unaffected. He picks up the two halves of parchment, and walks over to Draco, throwing them over his face hatefully. He turns to leave.

“Blaise, please. I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he pleads. 

Blaise pauses, turning. “Forgive you?” he asks incredulously.

He rushes over to Draco and clutches his shirt in his hand, bringing him close. He looks into his eyes, and for one breathless moment, Draco thinks he’s about to kiss him. Instead, he does something he’s never done before.

He spits in his face.

He throws him back on the ground so hard that Draco’s head slams on the floor.

“You’re despicable. No more than coward. And I promise you…you will pay for what you’ve done.”

Draco wants to tell him that he’s already paid. That he’s broken up with Harry. That he needs his best mate now more than ever, but it’s too late. Blaise disappeared into the floo without so much as glance.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

A few nights later over a glass of firewhiskey, Draco’s drafting his letter for transfer to the DMLE in Paris when his floo rings, announcing another visitor. 

It’s Hermione Granger, requesting to come through. This can’t be good. It goes against his better judgement to allow her in, but he does so anyway.

“Draco…good to see you.”

“Is it?”

Hermione laughs softly. “I think it’s high time we put childish things behind us, don’t you?”

Draco nods sullenly, sipping his firewhiskey.

“Can I offer you something to drink?”

“Nothing for me, thanks.” And there’s a long stretch of silence. It’s terribly awkward, and Draco wonders what she’s doing in his home. Just when he’s about to ask, she speaks.

“I know about you and Harry.”

Draco looks down at his fingernails, unconcerned. “I imagine the whole world will know, once it hits the papers.”

“I think you two need to sit down and have a civilized conversation about it before that happens…I can tell Harry still loves you.”

It sends a thrill through him to hear it, but he pretends to be unaffected.

“And?”

“And I need to know. Because Harry is my best friend, and there’s nothing more important to me than his happiness…Do you still love him?”

Draco stands and turns his back to her because he doesn’t want her to see his face.

“Whether I do or don’t doesn’t matter.”

“…how can you say that? Love is the only thing that matters.”

“We don’t all live in a world of unicorn and rainbows, Granger.”

“Love is how Harry defeated Voldemort.”

The sound of the dark lord’s name still caused a shiver to course through him, so he sits down.

“Harry is not himself. I’m very worried for him. He would kill me if he knew I was here, but I had to come. He doesn’t say much, but he’s different. I can tell...there’s something off. He’s heartbroken.”

“If your precious Harry is suffering so much, he knows where to find me. He hasn’t come to see me. Not once.” Draco can’t help a tone of bitterness coming through.

“As I understand it…you’re the one who broke it off.”

“I had to, Granger. You don’t know the whole story.”

“And it’s none of my business. I’m just telling you that Harry probably doesn’t feel it’s right to come to you. All I’m asking for is a conversation.”

“I can’t do that. It’s over between us. He made sure of that.”

Hermione sighed defeatedly.

“Besides, it was doomed from the start. Everyone was waiting for us to end. The deatheater and the savior, It goes against nature. We’re just... not good for each other. I’m surprised you, of all people, would want me with Harry.”

“I want him to be happy, and for whatever reason, you are the answer. Draco…we can’t help who we love.”

She reminded him of Astoria, then. But he was unperturbed.

“Harry is better off without me. He’ll be sad for a little while, but he’ll get over it. I’m sure there’s a line of people just waiting for _the savior_ to look their way.”

Hermione shook her head and got up to leave. Before she reached the floo, she turned around to face him.

“If you ever cared about Harry at all, you will go see him,” she said firmly.And then she vanished.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Before Draco handed in the request for his transfer to Paris, he made a last minute decision to stop at Harry’s office. He thought Harry, at least, deserved to know he would be leaving the country. Hermione’s words kept him up all night because despite himself, he did worry for Harry. He was the man who had at it all, and yet.

He knocked softly, and entered. When Harry caught sight of him, his whole body tensed, and he kept his eyes down.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” Harry answered stiffly. 

“Busy?”

Harry hadn’t put his quill down. “A bit.”

A tick of silence.

“I’m putting in a request to transfer to the DMLE in Paris.”

Harry didn’t answer right away, just kept scratching the parchment with his damn quill. Draco remembered the last time he told Harry he would be transferring to Paris. He’d outright refused to let him go, and then let Draco fuck him in the middle of a ministry ball honoring his victory in the war.

On the floor.

“Okay,” he answered softly. 

Draco rolled his eyes, not that Harry could see as he hadn’t even looked at him. He wanted to scream at him, or Harry to scream. Anything but this. He was frustrated for listening to Hermione. Here was the proof that Harry couldn’t be bothered with him anymore.

“Harry, look at me.”

Harry took a long time to look up, and when he did, it startled Draco. This was far worse than his hard expressionless face. It was like there was nothing behind his eyes. Like a dementor had sucked out his soul.

“Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Was there anything else?”

Draco looked away. He couldn’t bear to look into those stranger eyes. It was just another reminder of what he had lost.

“No…sorry to bother.”

“It’s no bother. Stay safe,” he said in his professional voice. It was the mechanical answer that Harry gave all the aurors before they went out on a mission. It burned to hear. Harry was treating him just like everyone else.

With his heart breaking anew, Draco left his office, feeling more hopeless than ever.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________

More days pass. For the first time in a while, Draco wishes he could talk to his mom. He tries to keeps busy, spending most nights riding his horses until his body is sore. As he lies in bed at night, he’s forced to admit there’s something wrong with him.

He stands in the shower the next morning, thinking. He tries not to think about him, but he couldn’t make a clean break from his mental calendar.

Draco got his transfer approved, surprisingly. He had secret hopes that Harry would lobby Shacklebolt to reject it. He had that power, and the minister’s ear. More proof that Harry is done with him. He’s surprised that news of their breakup hasn’t hit the Daily Profit. Suspects Hermione has a hand in it, but she could only hold them off for so long. Once he leaves for Paris, there’s no hiding it. He’s already packed and plans to leave tonight.

It’s the weekend and there’s suppose to be a full moon tonight. It makes him think of Harry, like everything else does.

Draco scours the newspapers every day to see if he’s been with his assistant out at any restaurants. He wonders if he’s seeing her. He wants to hope he’s seeing her. He tries to tell himself that stupid lie—that he’d be happy if he was with someone.

He smiles grimly, as he dries himself off.

He hopes he’s alone. If Draco can do it, then he can too.

_Petty._

It’s not really true. He does ample research on his assistant around the ministry, and she seems like a fine person. If he was with her, then that would be good. She could keep him from being lonely, take care of him. The dead look in his eyes has haunted him since the day he left his office.

In the end, that’s why he can’t go yet. It’s fucked up but Draco is a fuckup for him. If he’s ever going to leave London, he needs to see if he’s okay. But he's leaving for Paris tonight, regardless. He just wants to be sure he has someone to share his shy smiles with. Realizing that makes him feel like he might cry.

He wipes his face off on the towel. He dresses in his van’s, black jeans, and a black t-shirt.It’s Saturday. Harry should be home. He tries to floo to Grimmauld Place, but his floo is closed. That worries him.

It’s possible he just wants privacy to fuck Ms. Assistant, but Harry never closes his floo. It’s ministry policy that all aurors have their floos open, in case of an emergency.

He leaves the manor and apparates to the street outside his house. It’s a drizzly day out. If Harry doesn’t want to see him, then his wards won’t let him through. They do.

He gets to the door and knocks. There’s no answer. Draco makes a vain attempt to open it. He tries the knob. It turns. It can’t _really_ be unlocked, so he pushes inward.

The door opens.

That’s weird. Harry being the auror he is, is always compulsive about locking the doors. He walks through it slowly, like he’s breaking the law.

Something hot starts in his head and moves through his chest…down his arms. His palms are hot. His cheeks are hot. His back starts sweating.

_Harry?_ He almost calls out down the hall, towards the kitchen. He’s met with a slap of resistance. _Uninivited._ _He should go._

He steels himself and steps towards the kitchen. Something’s weird about the space. As he reaches the kitchen counter, he realizes: it’s quiet. If he’s here and distracted by her, why is it so quiet?

There’s a fruit bowl on the counter. It catches his eye because there are gnats above it.

His throat cinches. His head spins.

_No. Please God. Merlin. No, Harry. Please._

He tells himself he isn’t even here. He’s probably just with the kids at Ginny’s house. He’s panicking for no reason. Harry’s always been a slob, perhaps he forgot about the fruit. As he walks up the stairs, his footsteps muted by the long runner, he clings to the idea that his bedroom will be empty when he pushes open the door.

It’s not. There’s someone in the bed.

His brain screams.

It’s afternoon.

He steps inside on balloon legs. He’s not even near the bed yet, but he’s so sure he’s alone that he calls for him. “Harry?”

Nothing.


	17. Sick Hearts

_As he walks up the stairs, his footsteps muted by the long runner, he clings to the idea that his bedroom will be empty when he pushes open the door._

_It’s not. There’s someone in the bed._

_His brain screams._

_It’s afternoon._

_He steps inside on balloon legs. He’s not even near the bed yet, but he’s so sure he’s alone that he calls for him. “Harry?”_

_Nothing._

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

In that moment, he’s sure down to his bones that Harry is dead. He is so sure, tears start filling his eyes, so he’s nearly blind as his body propels himself towards his bed.

“Baby.” His voice quivers, so the word sounds wrong.

Then Draco blinks and he can see him, lying on his side, his body swathed in blankets. There’s countless empty bottles of firewhiskey on the floor by his side of the bed. Then he notices his cheeks. They’re candy-apple red.

“Harry?”

He reaches out a hand aimed for his face. When his fingers touch him, he draws back—because his skin is that hot. He reaches for him again, spreading his palm over his forehead.

“Hey…” He presses his hair back off his forehead, finds it sweaty. “Harry.” He makes the word sharp. “Harry.” It’s a demand. Finally, his eyelids flutter. He makes a groan-like sound, and he notices his lips. They’re so chapped, they’re cracked in one place.

“Hey, baby. Open up your eyes and look at me. It’s Draco.”

That should shock him into action—and it does. His eyelids peel open, just enough so he can see how glazed they are. Then his eyelids squeeze shut. His shoulders jerk. He realizes…he’s shaking.

“Harry?”

That’s some shaking. Is he seizing? He jumps on the bed beside him, pulls the cover back and watches as he recoils. He’s wearing only boxer-briefs. Draco’s gaze flies up and down him. Too lean. Fuck, his abs look granite sculpted. He can see his hip bones.

He groans—a small hoarse, un-Harry-like sound—and Draco’s eyes move back to his face. _Beautiful Face._

He’s trembling so violently it almost seems fake. Then he starts to cough. Once he gets going, he can’t stop. He can tell because his eyes flip open in alarm, and his hand comes to his throat. It’s a low, rough-sounding cough with lots of wheezing at the end. Then, with no breather, another long, hard coughing spell. His dazed, half-rolling eyes grab hold of Draco’s, and he realizes he should be doing something.

Of course, St. Mungo’s. What the bloody hell took him so long to realize he was in desperate need of St. Mungo’s? He grabs Harry and apparates him there.

Once they realize Draco is clutching Harry Potter, there’s a torrent of healers that spring forward and he’s immediately hauled onto a stretcher. Harry turns his head a little, looking for his eyes.

“I’m right here, Harry.”

Harry tries to lift his head as they carry him into a curtained space and shift him from stretcher to bed. He starts coughing. Really coughing. His bare chest and shoulders glisten with sweat. Healers flood in. Several stand around his bed frowning and talking. He’s shaking badly again, clenching his teeth as he winces. The healers do a diagnostic on him and he seems to shrink into the pillow. His eyes lift open. He looks around.

“Draco?” His eyes roll back in his head before they fix on Draco’s face.

A healer says, “We need his pressure up,” then another one takes his arm. “How do you feel, Auror Potter?”

Harry looks at her. Draco can barely hear his voice as he half-wheezes, “not so good.”

“That healer is going to get some fluids in you. Let’s talk while she works.”

His eyes slip shit. He shivers harder, and Draco wishes someone would put some goddamn blankets on him.

Another healer runs her wand over his face. There’s a beep. “One-oh-seven here on the forehead.”

More people come in and attach him to contraptions he’s never seen before.

“Did you hurt him? He hates being in the hospital.”

The healer gives him a flat faced look. Draco’s sure she knows who he is, and she’s not happy about it.

“Sir, you need to step back. Only family members allowed.”

“I am his family!” There must be something on Draco’s face that gives her pause, because she turns back to Harry and continues to assess him.

  
Harry’s eyes open again as healers swarm him. Someone looks into his mouth, and he gags. Another person prods his chest and presses on his stomach. Harry’s hand grips the railing. Someone moves it.

“Keep your hands by your sides, Auror Potter. We’re tryingto get you assessed.”

His fevered eyes roll towards her. His lips part, and his eyes narrow. Then he swings his gaze to Draco.

_________________________________________________________________________________

After they get him set up, Harry drags his eyes open. He squints down at himself, at all the contraptions attached to his body, and his eyes shine with tears.

He squeezes them shut, and his chest starts to rise and fall more sharply.

Draco crouches down right by him. “Hey, Harry.” It’s so natural to touch him—his hands in his hair, his palm draped gently over his hot forehead.

“Draco?” He grits his teeth and his whole body trembles. He moans. “Don’t go yet.”

“I’m not gonna leave you, baby.”

A tear falls towards his temple. Draco strokes his hair back. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay. I’m right here with you.” Harry’s eyes squeeze shut. Another tear streaks down his fever-flushed cheek.

Draco kisses carefully along its trek. “How do you feel, baby? What hurts?”

A healer walks in, and Draco jumps away from Harry…habit. They shove a potion down his throat.

“What is—“

“Sir, when someone had a fever this high, we give them a potion to stop their shaking.”

Draco’s pulse quickens as Harry’s eyes roll back in his head.

“It’ll just relax him. Not a bad thing.”

But it doesn’t. These bloody potions don’t seem to work on Harry. Don’t they realize how strong he is? How special? His eyes flip open again a few seconds later. They jump all around the room until they settle on Draco. Harry groans, “Draco?”

“I’m right here. See.”

Draco moves down to touch his calf, covered by blankets.

Harry reaches towards him. “ _Draco.”_

He’s only happy when Draco’s right by him. All his shaking’s stopped, and he does seem sedated. Still, every minute or two, he’ll open his poor, glassy eye and look around for him.

“You’re okay.”

“Hold my hand.” Harry’s voice shakes.

________________________________________________________________

Draco stays by his side night and day. Harry gets visits by all the Weasleys, Ginny too. They’re awkward around Draco, but he always gives them time alone with him or sits back while they visit. Harry always calls out Draco’s name when he can’t see him, and they usually don’t stay long.

Hermione visits often, but she can’t be by his side full time because the spattergroit invasion is starting to hit London. And it’s so urgent that she needs to be called away.

Time in his room passes at a glacial pace. Everything about Harry siren calls him. Even his bare shoulders and unwashed hair beg for his fingers.

After the first day, Draco finally finds out what’s wrong with him, though he can’t understand why they won’t just use a damn potion to fix it. There seemed to be a deadly reaction between the altered wolfsbane potion and alcohol. 

Harry’s fever goes down, so Draco covers him with blankets they brought when he complained about the rough ones. These are fleecy. He tucks them up to his chin. Draco holds his hand and tries to do a good job rubbing all along his palm and wrist. One time that he’s doing that, Harry opens his eyes and gives him a lost-eyed look.

“I love you,” Draco whispers. Harry smiles weakly and sinks right back into sleep.

Draco feels like he’s being stretched apart…torn to pieces. There’s a part of him that fucking loves him. His stupid heart swells up and bleeds for him because he’s stupid, and he’s Harry, and being near Harry makes him dumb. Another part of him that has more sense knows being here with him is not healthy.

_Harry Potter._ His name in the healer’s voice haunts his fragmented sleep. It’s the fourth morning, and Draco wakes up to his eyes on him. His hand’s on his head, his long, heavy fingers tangled in Draco’s hair, like he’s been rubbing it. Draco guesses he fellasleep with his face on the mattress by his legs.

“Hi.”

Harry looks sleepy, sort of dazed, so Draco can’t read his face.

Draco swallows. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay.” Harry can’t even move his mouth. His eyes shut and he’s back to sleep in seconds.

Draco thinks there’s something’s wrong with him for being at St. Mungo’s at all. He’s no more than a jilted ex. An ex-lover. An ex-deatheater. He doesn’t belong here.

_“If you hadn’t found him when you did, I think the outcome would have been different.”_

A healer told him that. So maybe that’s why. Maybe all this happened so he didn’t die. Draco’s okay if that’s all this amounts to.

Then Draco’s in the shower, and his chest is such a den of agony, he wonders if a healer would notice him scream.

When he gets out, Hermione is visiting. She tries talking to Harry, but his eyes are locked on Draco like he’s trying to communicate with his mind and wants Draco to do legillimency on him. After she’s gone, they’re alone in the room again. Harry holds out his hand for Draco’s, and when he takes it, his eyes shut. He inhales deeply…exhales slowly. His hand grips Draco’s.

“Draco Malfoy.” He says the name like he’s trying it on for size. “I feel sort of…floaty. Like I’m halfway high.” His eyes do look a little glazed. He’s still getting that relaxing potion, but he looks more lucid.

“Every time I wake up…when I see you…” Harry’s voice cracks. He drags in another breath and closes his eyes. “That’s the good part.”

Draco’s chest feels so fucking heavy.

“Don’t go…okay? Until…we talk some more.”

And then he’s sleeping.

He's sleeping, and Draco’s crawling out of his skin with the need to know if he means what he’s saying. The fact remains, he was with that woman and nothing could take it back. Harry didn’t even seek him out to explain. He doesn’t judge him for it. He’s angry, but mostly, he understands.He respects Harry. His needs should be fulfilled, all of them. He deserves the world, not an ex-deatheater who constantly brings him to tears. He’s Harry and Draco fucking loves him, but this will never work.

He sends an owl to Hermione.

_Hey. I need to leave to Paris, tomorrow._

Hermione shows up an hour later.

“They’re transferring him home tomorrow morning. Every time he loses sight of you, his heart rate goes up and he panics. When you left to get tea yesterday, he asked for you every minute. I don’t want to tell you what to do, but…” 

“I can come.” Draco blows his breath out.

When they arrive at Harry’s house, and put him up in bed, he falls asleep. Draco goes down to sit on the half-heart couch, as Hermione puts on the fire with her wand.

“When’s the last time you ate something, Draco?”

She gives him a few food choices. He doesn’t really pick one, but she returns a few minutes later with a plate of waffles.

“It’s good that you’re here.”

Draco doesn’t say anything.

“If you hadn’t found him…merlin knows what would’ve happened.” Draco continues to look at the ground.

“Draco…he knew not to drink on that potion...Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“It was an accident, Granger. He’s had alcohol with it before. Nothing like this ever happened.”

“Not a full bottle.”

Draco doesn’t want to argue with her, and besides, he doesn’t believe what she’s saying. If she only knew the truth. That Harry had his tongue down his assistant’s throat. And looked like he enjoyed it.

He’s leaving for Paris the second Harry’s at half strength. The longer he stays, the more damage he causes to himself.

____________________________________________________________________________

Harry sleeps all day into the evening, and Draco sits by his bed. No one asks if he wants to, but he does anyway.

There’s a picture on the front page of the Daily Profit. Some perv snapped it at the hospital. Draco’s leaning over him, stroking his hair back like a lover would. Then, he kisses his cheek. He can hardly stand to look at it. Throwing the paper on his chair, he gets up to take a shower.

He’s midway through his shower when the door’s pulled open. Draco almost has a heart attack. And then he sees who it is.

“Harry?”

He’s white-knuckling the door, looking like an apparition with his pale face and his sharp-edged physique. Just one glance, and Draco can see he’s shaking. He steps under the shower’s spray with him. Draco barely gets his arms around him him before his knees buckle.

“I didn’t kiss her,” he moans, shaking slightly from what Draco thinks might be exertion. “She…kissed me. Dosed…my coffee.”

Draco’s chest aches as he hugs him up against him. “It’s okay. That’s all behind us.”

“I don’t want there to be a…behind us.”

Harry’s jaw tightens. “You…still love me. I could tell.” A tremor wracks his shoulders. He looks at Draco. “That picture… in the paper.”

He collapses.

______________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry remembers being wheeled down a long hallway. He knew Draco should be with him, but he wasn’t. He kept trying to ask for him, and no one would answer. So he tried to get up and go find him.Then someone was prodding him with their wand, and he didn’t see him anywhere. He hates being in a hospital bed, so he tries to push them off of him.

After that, he gets Draco back. He tries to keep him near. Sometimes, he was too tired to talk, but he would try to to look at him and talk with his eyes.

_Please don’t leave yet._

_Please stay with me._

_Please forgive me._

The whole time, Harry just wanted Draco to hold him, but he doesn’t. Still, he falls asleep with his hand rubbing his arm. Draco stays by his bed the whole time and would lean in and kiss his hand and rub his hair.

Even though he thinks he’d been with his assistant. Even though he told him not to come near him at the DMLE.

“I hurt you. Always…have.” Harry wants to say—how he’s sorry—but he’s so tired. Everything makes him tired. He drags his eyelids open. Takes a deep breath.

“Didn’t mean to,” he manages. “But I did.”

Draco’s hand rubs his shoulder. Harry leans against him.

“I’m… _weak.”_

“You were really sick, Harry.”

He thinks about the stupid contract with Blaise and how terrible he’s been to the man he loves.He doesn’t care about it anymore. Draco’s been away for so long. He almost lost him forever. Tears swell in his eyes. His heart is racing.

“I don’t want to…be finished,” Harry manages.

Harry shuts his eyes. Everything spins.

“I wasn’t kissing her.” Harry remembers what else he’s mad about.

Draco’s arms encircle him. “Don’t worry about anything. Just get some sleep.”

_Putting me off?_ Even Harry’s thoughts are just a whisper in his head now.

He sleeps.

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry wakes up against him. Draco's finally decided to lay in bed with him, the way he's been craving. It feels so good, he doesn’t want to open his eyes. So it’s annoying that the sunlight is in his face.

Sensing he’s awake, Harry runs his hands down Draco’s abs. “I love you, Draco.” He moves lower. Draco is half hard and growing under his touch. Harry groans. “I’ve missed this.”

“Don’t tease me, Harry.”

Harry runs his hands over him. “I need you.”

“Healer’s coming in fifteen minutes to check on you. And you’re half alive, for merlin’s sake,” he says softly.

“After.”

“If you feel like it.”

The healer comes and helps him walk around the room. Harry is slowly regaining his strength. The walk took a lot of him, and he goes back to sleep.

When he wakes up an hour later, Draco is stroking the side of his face.

“I’m sorry…for being a prat to you these last few months,” Harry says tearfully. “I knew I was pushing you away, but somehow I didn’t really think you’d leave.”

“We’d been wrecking each other for months, Harry. You’d didn’t owl me all week…then I saw you with her.”

Harry sighs. “I needed time to think. It was my fault. I was all in my head...I let that bloody contract take over my life. I was being stupid, not myself. That’s all over with now. I promise to never behave that way again, even if the contract holds forever. I love you, and I’ll take anything you have to offer. Please….don’t go to Paris.”

Draco looks contemplative for a moment, then a smile crosses his face.

“What contract?”

“The contract with Blaise…” Draco raises his eyebrows and Harry thinks he knows what it means, but he doesn’t want to get his hopes up. “Did you? You didn’t.”

“Contract’s dissolved Harry.”

And Harry’s never heard sweeter words in his entire life. He’s hugging Draco as tight as he possibly can with renewed strength, hearing bones crack. Picturing Draco in white robes, a few tears escape and land on Draco’s shirt. “Thank you…will you stay with me?”

Draco stays silent a moment while he strokes his arm.

Harry’s heart catches in his throat.


	18. Switch and Curse

_…will you stay with me?”_

_Draco stays silent a moment while he strokes his arm._

_Harry’s heart catches in his throat._

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You have to be sure you want to be with me, Harry. I can’t do this back and forth thing, even for you…You have to be certain that you’ll never put us through this madness ever again, and you might have to see someone, a professional, to talk to. Because I don’t think all the spankings in the world will be enough.”

Harry chuckles. “I promise, Draco. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. And you could still spank me, whenever you want.”

He feels Draco smile and kiss his forehead, taking it as confirmation.

Draco gets up to retrieve some breakfast that Neech has left for them in the kitchen. When he gets back, Harry pulls him into a bone crushing hug again.

Draco hugs him back, and lets his gaze run down Harry’s body.

“How’re you feeling baby? You really okay?”

“Yeah.”

They eat pancakes in bed, and Harry looks tired.

“What happened? The potion, you just kept getting sicker…”

Harry stares out at the wall in front of them. Swallows. Shuts his eyes. And he says, “I don’t want to tell you.”

“So you won’t,” Draco whispers. “Unless you change your mind.”

Draco tugs his hand and tugs Harry so he’s lying up against him.

“How did I get lucky like this?” Harry asks.

Draco kisses his head. “Why don’t you sleep on it? See if the answer comes to your dreams.”

Draco pulls the blanket over them, and they fall back asleep.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

When Harry wakes up again, it’s already morning the next day, and he’s alone with a raging boner. Besides that, he’s feeling much better. He won’t be chasing dark wizards for another few days, but he feels like a new person. Stroking himself, he thinks of Draco, and his decision to stay with him revitalizes his energy. He sends up a prayer of thanks for the second chance he’s given as he hears the shower turn off.

Draco exits in all his naked glory, and he lets out an unintentional groan at the sight. His hair hangs loosely around him, wet from the shower, his abs glisten erotically in the sunlight. He’s so fucking perfect that Harry believes he’s still dreaming. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough to endure Draco’s thick cock yet, but he’ll take it anyway.

Draco smirks. “I know what that sound means.”

Harry lets out a loud breath. “I need you. I have to feel you.”

Draco steps towards the bed and pulls off the sheet to slowly reveal Harry’s naked body, still too skinny and frail.His enormous cock points to the ceiling, an angry red. It looks too big for his body now. Draco licks his lips at the sight.

“You’re not strong enough yet.”

“Give it to me.. _._ ” 

Draco slides up next to him on the bed, and he’s already half hard. Harry hears him faintly cast a few charms, then a lube slicked hand comes down on his cock, stroking him. It’s nothing like his own hand. It’s pure bliss to feel that calloused hand on his cock, the hand that was going to go to Paris and never feel again. Overwhelmed with emotion, he turns on his side to face Draco and kiss him sensually. As they kiss, Draco starts rubbing their cocks together, but it’s not enough.

“I need you. Need more. _Please_ …put it in.”

“Oh, I plan to,” he grins mischievously.

Harry lets out a sigh of relief and closes his eyes as he’s pushed on his back. He braces himself to take him, spreading his legs wide, planting his feet flat on the bed so he can push back against him, no matter how much it hurts. He needs this. Draco rolls on top of him, bracing his hands on the bed on either side of Harry, sure to not rest any of his weight. Rubbing their cocks together more, Harry is already panting with need.

“Put it in me, baby…please,” he begs.

Suddenly, Draco grabs the base of Harry’s cock and sinks down onto it, breaching his own entrance.

“Ah!” Harry’s eyes fly open in shock at the feeling of Draco’s too tight hole squeezing around him. He shivers as searing hot pleasure courses through him and he locks his gaze with Draco, his half-hooded eyes are black throughout.

“Oh my god,” Harry gasps as Draco starts to move over him. He hasn’t done this in so long, he thinks he might die from the pleasure of feeling it again. Watching Draco’s chiseled chest and abs tense as he sits upwards and moves over him with ease, he thrusts up, earning a loud moan.

“That’s it, Harry. Give it to me. I love how you fuck me,” he moans.

Harry’s ears are burning. The words have the same effect as Draco sinking down onto him again and again, harder and faster. Harry’s thrusting up to meet him now, his bottom is raised half off the bed.Harry squeezes his eyes shut, rolling his head from side to side, hoping that cutting off one of senses will make him last longer. It doesn’t. Draco's coming down on him harder and faster, alternating between bouncing on him and grinding back and forth. Moaning throughout, Draco keeps up a litany of “mine, mine, mine.”

“Oh, god, yours, Draco, yours,” he chokes out.His hands fly to Draco’s ass, squeezing his cheeks as he thrusts up at an awkward angle and stills. Draco shouts and cum splatters Harry’s stomach at the same time as Harry is filling him.

When the aftershocks wear off, Draco leans forward, careful not put any weight on Harry and kisses him gently. As they part, Harry lets out a startled laugh with tears at the corner of his eyes.

“That…was fucking amazing.”

Draco grins proudly as he moves off and casts a cleaning charm on both of them.

After their breathing calms down, Harry turns on his side, facing him, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to…I wouldn’t want to with anyone else, just you.”

Harry sighs. “I know you prefer being the top. You don’t have to pretend to enjoy it for my sake.”

Draco furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Harry, the first six months of our relationship, you were shagging me. Did you think I was just suffering through it?”

Harry shrugs, not meeting Draco’s eyes.

“Did you not like it?”

“I like it,” Harry said.

“Good,” said Draco.

“I like it a lot.”

“Good…because I need it. I’ve been too long without.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asks hesitantly.

“Im sure…I want it like that—been craving it a long time, but you’ve been a prat.”

Harry chuckles. “I have been a prat, haven’t I?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

Harry smiles wide and shoves Draco’s chest. He’s still weak so Draco doesn’t even move, but he grabs Harry’s hand and kisses his palm, then strokes his cheek with it. They lock eyes and Harry feels that inner pulling sensation, the one that he felt after he was plugged up all day, when he realized he was no more than a slave. This time, he feels no fear. No insecurity. He has his Draco back, and he knows he’s going to be better for him. Everything feels right again.

___________________________________________________________________________________________

As Harry regains his strength, he makes several changes. The first of which is bringing his kids over while Draco is there. Scorpius comes to Grimmauld Place as well, and they spend many evenings together, laughing, talking, playing exploding snap. Sometimes they come over in the afternoon, and the entire family flies together in a home game of quidditch. It reminds him how wonderful a father Draco is; he’s so good with them, and Scorpius dotes on him more than ever. Scorpius, James, Lily, and Albus get alone swimmingly. The kids are over almost every night, and Harry doesn’t know what’s been holding him back from doing this sooner. Fear, maybe, that Draco would leave him. But that’s completely gone now.

He also brings Hermione and Ron around Draco more, and is surprised that Hermione gets along particularly well with Draco. Her eyes sparkle at him like she admires him. Even Ron isn’t averse to him. He learns later that Draco and Hermione have an owl correspondence and somehow became friends during his stay at St. Mungo’s. Enough days pass that Harry's back to his full strength and spends three hours every morning at the gym in Draco's house. 

It’s Friday and they’ve convinced the kids to spend the night at Grimmauld Place because they’re spending their weekend back with their mothers. After they go to sleep, Draco and Harry retire to the parlor. Draco’s nursing a ginger ale on ice.

“No nightcap?” Harry asks.

“Nah, not in the mood.”

Harry’s head is in his lap, his body splayed out on the couch, while Draco strokes his hair. He stares up at him adoringly.

  
“I forgot how good of a father you are. You’re so sexy as a daddy,” Harry says abashedly.

Draco grins, stroking his inner thigh. 

“I think you’re the one I’m going to be calling daddy, tonight.”

Harry’s cock fills at his words, and he draws in a sharp breath. Harry’s been making love to him every night since he’s regained his strength, but the kids weren’t spending the night.

“But…the kids are over. You always refuse if the kids sleep over,” Harry says. 

“I _need_ you.”

He looks up at Draco and his eyes are hot with desire. No firewhiskey necessary, Harry feels positively drunk under his storm grey gaze. He sits up abruptly and drags Draco to the bedroom, locking the door behind him and throwing up a silencing charm. Draco is laughing the whole time behind him, but he quickly shuts him up by giving him a deep sensual kiss, gripping his bum tightly.

Though Harry plays the top, Draco is no submissive. He pushes Harry to lie flat on the bed and kisses him so hard that Harry is dizzy by the time he parts. He rips his clothes off by hand, but Harry can’t be bothered, he just magics Draco’s clothes away to feel him naked against him as quickly as possible. Draco moved his mouth to kiss his jaw, his throat. He moved hotly down, along the line of his neck, then licks his nipples, nipping the buds to hardness. He moves back up to his neck, sucking Harry's hot spot. Harry holds him there and—and this is what it felt like, to be wanted, to be truly desired—to be devoured.

“God,” Harry breathed, hot breath into Draco’s ear. He squeezes Draco’s firm ass, grinding his cock up against him. “I want you.”

“You can have me.”

Harry flips them over, and Draco bends his legs back automatically, his knees almost to his head, ready and willing. It makes Harry break out into a sweat of anticipation.

“You truly want it, don’t you?” Draco nods emphatically.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Harry tells him. “I’m going to shag your brains out.”

Draco moans, and Harry feels emboldened talking to his master this way. As of late, he’s only been making sweet love to him with words of adoration. It’s both strange and amazing that power could transfer this way between them so easily. Harry could be his slave, full time, if that’s what Draco wanted, but it’s not. He wants this too.It makes him dizzy with power. He feels that their relationship is invincible, dynamic, and nothing could break it.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he wants Draco to understand. “I’m going to leave you wet, full of cum, weak.”

“Gods.” Draco groans, and his pink cock is already dripping onto his stomach in anticipation. Draco likes this, and Harry knows just how to fuck him. He was going to give it to him so good, and Draco was going to love it. Taking in his reaction, he can’t help teasing him a bit more.

“You want my cock inside you?” Harry leans closer to his ear. “You want me inside your tight little hole?”

“Harry…” he warns.

“Tell me.”

“Fucking hell, yes,” he gasps, squeezing Harry’s bum closer to impale himself. Harry teases his hole more, the tip catching the rim.

Harry braces his arms high on the mattress behind Draco’s pulled back knees and guides his cock inside. He’s still so tight, and Harry grits his teeth as he enters his scorching heat to maintain control. He works into him slowly at first, but he’s turned himself on so much with all his dirty words that he starts reaming into him shortly after. Watching his face carefully for pain, Draco looks like he’s flung off into a different planet. His eyes are squeezed shut.

“Look at me.”

Draco opens his eyes and Harry almost blows at the lust he sees inside them. Lust and something else. The room starts shaking, Harry’s accidental magic. It’s Harry’s turn to close his eyes, but Draco keeps making these low “uh, uh, uh” sounds that are driving him to the edge. He’s gripping Harry’s forearms tightly. “Uh” every time Harry hits his prostate, and Harry drives into him harder, faster, until Draco is writhing through his orgasm. Cum oozes out of his pink cock down the sides of his rigid shaft.

When Harry opens his eyes, Draco is watching him struggle to hold back.

“Don’t stop fucking me. Please don’t stop.” Something crashes on the other side of the room and Draco’s head turns to it, then back on Harry because he can't be bothered. 

“ _uh,_ _Harry,_ you fuck me so good.” The sound of more glass crashing into pieces.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum.”

“Give it to me. I fuckin’ love feeling your hot cum inside me.”

With a roar, Harry slams into him, holding. He spends so hard, it’s almost a painful experience, and he half passes out.His eyes are closed for a long time after, shaking with force of his climax, blanketing himself over Draco.

He’s vaguely aware of a soft hand stroking his back, and he comes to with the realization that he’s drooling all over Draco’s chest. Waving his hand to dry it off, he hears Draco let out a soft laugh.

“You all right there, chosen one?”

Harry groans. He doesn’t want to move a muscle. Draco hugs him tightly and rubs his cheek over his hair.

“That was quite a performance," he tells Harry. "Was that your magic?" 

Harry groans again and then speaks like it pains him to do so. “Yeah, I think I was more affected than you. You’re gonna kill me one day, Draco.”

More soft laughter. “I quite like it when you fuck me.”

“Can we stay…like this?” Harry asks.

“Whatever you want, baby.”And then Harry’s asleep.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

The next day, the kids have gone to their mothers,and they’re alone again.

“Let’s have lunch at the park together, in Hogsmeade,” Draco says.

Harry raises his eyebrows at that. Draco’s always been a little hesitant to spend time together with Harry in public, especially in the wizarding parts of London where they would be easily be recognized. He mostly just endures it, and only after Harry pressures him so much, it annoys him into agreeing. He thought his hesitancy would be doubled now that word of their brief separation hit the papers. The papers claimed that it was Draco’s fault that Harry Potter almost died, but he weaseled his way back into his heart by staying at his bedside. It was a horrifically unflattering portrayal of Draco, and Harry planned on ripping the limbs off the Daily Profit reporter who wrote it. Alas, Harry is used to the perils of fake news. He’s beyond excited as Draco returns from his manor with a picnic basket prepared by Neech.

It’s a beautiful sunny Saturday, and the park is packed full of wizarding families and their children. Draco sets up the blanket for them under an oak tree and sits cross legged as Harry lays his head in his lap, staring up at him. Draco never looks sexier than when he’s reading a book. Birds are chirping in the background as slivers of light stream through the tree leaves catching his golden blonde hair. _My prince._ Harry’s heart flutters so forcefully that he has to look away from a moment. He scans the crowd and sees that many park-goers are staring at them disapprovingly, but if Draco doesn’t mind, then Harry doesn’t either.

He’s never minded, in any case. He spent half his time at Hogwarts being hated by the majority of his classmates, first for thinking he was the heir of Slytherin, then for thinking he was an attention whore when his name came out of the Goblet of Fire. In 5th year, everyone thought he was mad for saying that Voldemort had returned. Then, in his 7th year, the entire world hated him as he was dubbed “Public enemy number 1.” He was definitely used to it but was surprised that Draco didn’t mind it either. It only made his heart flutter more as he looked back at him.

He was thinking of how much more he loved Draco with every passing day, when he caught sight of a cloaked figure in his periphery. As he turned his head, the figure drew his wand and he saw a green light forming at the tip of it. It all happened in slow motion.In an act of sheer terror, Harry cast a _protego_ so strong, that every single person in the park got knocked flat to the ground. Screams filled the park as the jet of green light streamed past and headed straight for Draco, but it was absorbed by the shield. The cloaked figure tried to turn on his heel but Harry snapped his fingers, and he was bounded by his hands and feet and fell over before he could disaparate. Harry jumped up in a blind rage and strode over to the figure with Draco hot on his heels. When he pulled the cloak back, it was just an ordinary bloke he’d never seen before. Harry was seized with the desire to kill this man with his bare hands. Drawing his hand back to punch him, Draco caught it, holding him back.

“Please, Mr. Potter. Have mercy. I only did it for you own good.”

Harry looked down upon him like a loathsome insect.

“You deserve better than that deatheater! You’re our savior, sir. We love you.”

Harry looked around at the crowd, unable to read their expressions, but he was sure that some of them agreed with this vile criminal. It suddenly made him wrought with fear and panic. He let go of the man and turned to Draco.

“Meet me at the manor. Get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you with him.”

“I’m just going to take him to the DMLE. I won’t hurt him. Please, go,” he begged.

Draco looked at him for a moment and sees something in his eyes that makes him hesitate to argue. He turned on the spot and vanished. 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco waits at manor, pacing. He curses himself for not thinking to go with him to the DMLE, but he’s never seen that look in his eyes before, like a helpless bird caught in the clutches of an eagle. It makes him sick with worry. He’s craving a glass of firewhiskey but pours himself a ginger ale instead, waiting in the parlor.

It’s evening when he hears the rumbling of Harry’s flying motorcycle, and he strides to the foyer to greet him. Harry walks through the front door and right away, Draco could tell something is wrong. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and he doesn’t meet Draco’s eyes. He hangs his auror cloak on the coat rack, and Draco moves in closer. He can’t tell if he would want it…but Draco wants to hug him. He’s relieved when Harry comes for it first. He locks Draco up against him, pulling a big breath into his lungs. Then another, like he hasn’t breathed all day till right now.

Then he shoves Draco up against the wall, covers his mouth with his, and rubs against him until they’re thrusting at each other. Draco goes for his zipper, and his hand locks around his wrist.

“No,” he growls. “Not here.”

Harry drags him upstairs, not letting go of his wrist until Draco’s on his back on the bed. Sensing his need for total control, Draco allows it, wants it even. Harry strips him of his boxers and shirt. He's up on his arms above him, rubbing his thick cock against Draco’s.

“You good for it?” Harry asks.

“Ready.”

Harry fucks him so hard so he's wasted by the time he cums, so he knows he’ll hurt tomorrow. When they’re panting on their backs, Harry surprises him by turning on his side—so Draco does, too. He shuts his eyes, and Draco could feel the tension in him.

“You hungry?” It feels like a stupid thing to say, but Draco can’t keep from saying something.

Harry’s eyes open. He reaches out, rubbing the back of his hand over the trough between his pecs.

“How was the rest of your day?” Harry’s words sound thick, as if he’s speaking underwater.

“How was yours?” Draco asks.

Harry licks his lips, seals them together. Then he sets his gaze away from him.

“That great, huh?”

Harry’s up off the bed so fast it makes Draco’s head spin. He holds his breath until he walks downstairs to find Harry at the kitchen counter. His whole body is taut, his shoulders heaving, casting thin and wavering shadows in the dim light of the table lamp.

_Shit._

Harry’s not a talker. He doesn’t know if he should pry, and besides, he has a pretty good idea of what’s going on in his head. He moves over to him slowly, wraps himself around him from behind. He kisses his nape and strokes Harry’s back until chills move in the wake of his fingers.

Harry lets out a low groan, and Draco’s hand roves down his abs, stroking until he finds him hard against his belly.

“You do this.” Harry’s voice is flat. Draco can’t tell if he’s angry of resigned.

Draco grips his dick with his free hand, rubbing against his flank. “And you do this.”

“Clouds my head,” Harry rasps.

Draco starts to stroke him. “That’s why I didn’t go to Paris. To make your head so cloudy you can’t think of anything but me.”

Draco wants to prove that he can take his mind off today. But he doesn’t want to fuck around. He wants to make him talk before this becomes another problem.

Draco strokes his hip. “Go sit down. I’ll make something for us. You didn’t get to have lunch, Auror Potter.”

Harry sits down at the small wooden table in the kitchen, raising his eyebrows because Draco’s never made anything before. He props one arm on the table, resting his cheek on a clenched hand, as Draco makes sandwiches with what he’s got in the fridge.

Draco’s halfie bounces as he moves around the kitchen. It occurs to him that he should have thrown some clothes on, but he was worried. When he steps over to the table with two plates on his arm, Draco can’t help smirking. Harry grabs his hip, then his cock.

“Put the plates down, Auror Malfoy.” He sets them down on the far side of the table.

“Get up there in front of me. Stretch out.”

Draco’s not sure the table will hold him, but it’s big enough—and turns out, pretty sturdy. He lies on his back thinking of how horrified Neech will be to see this as this table was reserved for food prep. Luckily, not an elf was in sight. They knew to steer clear of them when they were together. Harry wraps his hands behind his knees and pulls him closer to the table’s edge. The shift makes Draco’s balls drop off the table. Harry’s eyes hold his as he strokes his sac.

“I’m hungry,” Harry says as he pumps his cock and wraps his mouth around the head. Draco watches as he swallows him down inch by fucking inch. _Oh god, it feels good._ Harry taking control was just as hot as when he let Draco take control. He can’t decide which way is better, but right now, the former is winning. No wonder he did this for six months. Draco lifts his hips, gripping the table’s edge as he tries not to thrust. Harry walks him to the ledge and stops when Draco’s shaking, brushing kisses over the inside of his leg.

Harry doesn’t meet his eyes again—just makes him cum so hard, he feels lightheaded after. When Draco opens his eyes, he finds he’s nearly off the table, in his lab. Harry’s grinning that old cat-that-ate-the-canary grin.

Harry rubs his hand over his leg. Then he grips his forearms to help him down onto the seat beside him. He kisses his mouth, and Draco reaches into his lap to find him long and thick and stiff. Draco slides the plates over and watches as he gets started on his sandwich.

“Hungry?” Draco asks.

“Didn’t eat enough.” His low Harry voice is gruff.

Draco sinks down under the table. “Don’t think I did either.”

Harry’s hand finds his forehead. “You don’t have to. Just because—“

Draco sucks his thick tip into his mouth and Harry groans.

“By the time I’m finished with you, Potter—“ Draco pumps his shaft a few times. “I want to see you’ve cleaned your plate.”

For a long time, he just teases him. Rolls his balls and lightly strokes his big erection. He kisses his cockhead as his legs stretch out around Draco and he lifts his ass off the chair a bit. His legs are shaking. Draco licks all along his rim and shaft again. Harry groans good and loud.

“Oh, you like that?” Draco licks the little notch under his rim and tries to stuff his tongue in his hole, knowing full well he loves it. Harry makes a low, hoarse sound like a growl and groan mixed. Then he starts to rock his hips. He’s trying to thrust his swollen dick at his face.

“ _Draco.”_

He licks his balls.

“If you want something, you should ask, Potter. I thought I’ve taught you that by now.”

Harry grabs his hair and and pushes his cock against his cheek.

“Suck me off.” His voice is low and rough, but Draco can see his toes curl as he issues the order.

“That’s a tell, not an ask.”

“ _Please.”_

He gives him what he wants, drawing it out so he wraps his leg around his lower back and his hand jerks Draco’s hair so hard, he groans around his mouthful. At some point, his other leg makes its way between him, and Draco's humping his calf.

He realizes Harry’s trying to get the upper hand; he rubs his leg against his cock, jostling his sac around. He is pretty sure he can finish him without cumming again like a prepubescent boy—and then Harry blows, his leg rubbing him just so. Draco spends as he’s trying to swallow. Harry chuckles even as he’s spurting and Draco is drinking him down. When he rejoins him at the table, he finds that he’s eaten both sandwiches. Harry arches an eyebrow in a most Malfoy-like mannerand waves his hand underneath the table to clean the cum off his leg.

Harry chuckles as he sits beside him. “Mr. Malfoy, it seems my appetite for you is never sated.”

Draco rubs his finger in a drop of mustard on one of the plates and smears it on his jaw.

It’s a fuckfest that night. Right until the early morning hours, when they fall asleep naked and sated, cum staining the sheets. Draco’s head in his lap, and Harry’s arms draped over his chest.

When Draco wakes up, it’s nearly noon. The manor is quiet, his throat is dry, and his whole body’s achy sore.

He comes downstairs to him sitting in the parlor, staring at the fire with a glass of firewhiskey in his hand. He looks painfully somber but smiles softly when he catches sight of Draco.

Draco bends to fill a glass of water by the liquor cart and winces.

“What’s the matter?”

“Just a little sore.”

Harry smiles wider now, like it’s the best news he’s heard all year. Draco rolls his eyes but smiles back.

“You okay, baby?” Draco asks.

“Fine.” His smile vanishes, and he swallows thickly.

Draco sits down, taking him in. This is why he didn’t want to ask, but he had to. Harry’s body is taut again, but it’s not as bad as yesterday.

“Talk to me…you know it’s not your fault. People always hated me. I’ve been attacked while out with my family before.”

“Did they send the killing curse?”

“No, but a pretty bad bat bogey hex. Hit me square in the chest.”

Harry shakes his head, sipping his firewhiskey. “As long as I’m with you, your life is in mortal danger.”

“Dramatic, much?”

“Yes, I’m dramatic. The killing curse came straight towards the man I love for no other reason than the fact that he’s with me. I’m fucking dramatic about that, and I always will be. What if I wasn’t there? How many more want to kill you for being with the bloody chosen one? Everyone wants to tear us apart.”

“Everyone? One lone psycho shouldn’t dictate our lives, Harry. I checked in with Shacklebolt and he told me the guy was drawing pictures of you in his cell. Not everyone is so cuckoo. And I’m not exactly a helpless damsel.”

Harry shakes his head. “All it takes is one.”

Draco gets up and sits in his lap, wrapping his arms around him.

“So what do you want to do? Should we give them what they want and call it quits?”

Harry puts his glass down and hugs him tightly. “Don’t you ever say that.” He pulls Draco’s face down to kiss him.

“We just have to be careful. I can’t take any chances with you, Draco. If anything happens to you—“

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Harry. The only person that’s going to wreck me is you.” Draco grins suggestively, and that seems to lighten Harry’s mood.

“How are you feeling? I’m sorry I went so hard last night.” Harry shakes his head at himself. 

“Sore, but it’s a good sore. I’m ready for more.”

Harry grins, disbelievingly. “Haven’t you had enough?”

“Never.”

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________


	19. Draco's Sacrifice

The following weeks pass without incident. They don’t go out in public, except for work, and Draco is content with that. This is how it’s always been, at his own request.Draco feels the tension from Harry ease a bit, but still feels a keen sense of protective possessiveness from Harry. Instead of annoying him, it only makes Draco feel cherished. It’s still slightly jarring to be faced with how much Harry truly loves him. He shows him every day, and Draco feels like he finally has his Harry back. His love is like a palpable forcefield protecting him at all times.

Next Saturday arrives, and they have to go into work because they got so behind while Harry was recovering. They’re the only two on the DMLE floor and when their work is done, Draco insists on being fucked in the minister of magic’s office. As jets of Draco’s cum spurt over Shacklebolt’s desk, Draco wonders why it brings him this sick satisfaction.

  
They’re grinning hard at each other as they descend the lifts to the atrium. Harry pauses before they get to the floo and pulls Draco back for a claiming kiss. There’s a few ministry employees around, but they don’t pay them any mind.

“That was so wrong. You’re not right, DM,” Harry says, testing out his new pet name.

“Who wants to be right? I, for one, would rather be a little fucking wrong. Better to be wrong with the right person than right with the wrong one.”

In the dark of the atrium, Draco sees him shake his head. “You’re crazy Draco.”

“Crazy for you.”

Harry looks contemplative for a moment. “Could I…move in with you? I mean, if the offer still stands.”

Draco snorts. “Could you? I’ve been begging you to for the last month.”

“Draco, I don’t know what I’d do—“

Harry stops because Draco’s face is stretching into a Malfoy version of _The Scream._ Harry hears the crack of a curse behind him, but before he can turn around he’s shoved so hard, he topples face first ten feet away.

By the time Harry gets up, weak and shaking, it’s already _after._

Draco is on his back on the marble floor, his eyes blinking quickly at the ceiling, his mouth opening and closing. His arm is bent behind him weirdly. Harry hears shouting, but he’s so focused on Draco he can’t even process. Blood start soaking through his shirt in random gashes and he has a horrible flashback of that night in the bathroom.

Harry drops down besides him, his whole body tossed in some transcendental realm. His hands are shaking so much, he can barely get them to reach for him—his soul racked by the most primal terror.

“Draco?”

Draco tries to answer him. That’s how he ends up choking on a mouthful of his own blood. Harry pushes his hand back into his hair, draws it back because it’s warm and sticky. A wave of helpless fury fills him as he turns back to see who the perpetrator was—so much so that he doesn’t look back down until Draco’s eyes are closing.

“Draco! Open your eyes!” Harry shakes him, and he starts to choke again. Harry stands up, falls down to his knees. _I don’t know what to do!_ “Please! Draco, please, Draco, please…” Draco’s eyes squeeze shut. A tear slips out. “Draco, you gotta look at me! I love you.” At that, his eyelids flutter.

There are people running up behind them.

_Did you see who it was?_

_I think it was that bloke who works at the DoM._

_He ran off._

_The bombardia curse!_

_“_ Draco!” Harry shakes him hard, and—nothing, “Draco, please!”

Someone is sobbing.

Then someone is screaming.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Harry?” Something soft and warm rubs his back. Harry recoils from the touch, lifts his head from the bed.

“Hey.” It’s Hermione, again. Her palm traces a circle on his shoulder. Harry grits his teeth to keep from screaming. “I brought some soup. And more clothes. Just in case you want to shower? Or have something to eat? The soup is good.”

“No.”

Harry can’t see her—she’s in the plastic chair slightly behind his, but he can see her face in his mind. Wide eyes, parted lips. 

“Thank you ‘Mione.” Harry lets out a breath slowly. Inhales through his nose, holding the air in his lungs for a second before releasing. He shuts his eyes and tries to sound more human.

“Thank you. You can go now. I know you’re needed for the spattergroit crisis.”

“Already found the cure. They can manage.Harry, it’s been two days and—“

“ _You can go now.”_

“You smell like a wild boar.”

Harry’s lips twitch before he presses them flat. “Later.”

“There’s still blood on your shirt and you won’t let anyone charm it off.”

“It’s fine.”

“If Draco could see you now, he would tell your wild boar self to get a shower. He would hate to see you like this.”

Harry looks at Draco’s unconscious body lying on the hospital bed. The dark magic Blaise used was like a mixture of the bombardia and sectumsempra spell. All his bones were shattered and it was possible that the gashes would never heal completely. His left arm may never be usable again because it took the curse head on. His skull was cracked at the back, but no _episkey_ would heal it because it was from a curse, not trauma. They had to shave his head to get the magic to penetrate better, and Harry fears is that he’ll end up like professor Lockhart with no memory of him. Harry can’t stand to rest his eyes on his face, gashed like mad-eye moody, his gorgeous body, propped up in such an odd position, held at the right angles by magic.

Every time Harry thinks about his long soft, golden hair, his eyes ache and his throat feels too tight. When his eyes shut, which isn’t often, he has nightmares about Draco’s mutilated bloody body, of what his shattered bones look like on the inside. His bad dreams of bleeding Draco aren’t much worse than being awake.

“He’s going to be okay. You know that, right, Harry? Nothing that is wrong with him is threatening his life.”

Harry turns around so fast, Hermione’s eyes widen.

“Everything that’s wrong with him could kill him. If you don’t see how, you haven’t bothered to think hard about it. Or some assassin could come through the wards and kill him. He might not even recognize us when he wakes. His skull was injured. And he’s mutilated like mad eye.”

“Healers say he’s going to be fine. Gashes will eventually heal completely.”

Harry scoffs. “Healers…children that graduated yesterday. No knowledge of the dark arts. If Snape were alive he could’ve healed him in a heartbeat. They’re probably making him suffer longer on purpose because they know his past. Or they have no bloody idea what they’re doing!”

“You should take that calming drought, Harry. You remember? The healer prescribed it. I think it could really help.”

“The calming drought make me foggy.”

“And you’re needed here.” She nods in direction of the healers. “Clearly, you are their leader.”

“I _am_ needed here. Without me watching, no one takes care of the small things.”

“What are those, Healer Potter?”

“Shut up, Hermione.”

She shriek-laughs so loudly, that it peels over the ward’s noises. She laughs so loud and long she’s snorting. Harry stands up because he’s angry, and you can’t be angry sitting down.

“It’s not funny.”

“Aww Harry. I don’t think it’s at all funny. I was just trying to cheer you up.”

“Your guffaw could wake the dead.”

Harry is glaring as her gaze shifts away to something behind him. He watches as her eyes widen and her mouth rounds. Her hand comes up to her face, and she smiles, pointing at Draco.

Harry turns slowly and finds both child healers standing by the head of his bed with these proud smiles—because his eyes are just a little open.

“Look at this, Auror Potter…we though if we decreased the sedative potions, this might happen today.”

Her words pass right through Harry as he steps to his bedside. _Please stay open._ He needs to get in close because Draco can't move. He puts his face right in front of his—and Draco blinks. Twice. His mouth bends as his gaze lifts a little…almost holding Harry’s but not quite.

_Please please please please._

His brow scrunches a little, and the look is so Draco. He looks like a living human. Harry feels a rush of shock as tears start streaming down his cheeks. Draco’s eyes move just a little. Like he’s looking over his shoulder. Harry’s stomach slow-rolls. _Does he not recognize me?_ His eyes shift the other way, towards Hermione…then back to him. Harry presses his lips together, hating that Draco can see him cry.

“It’s okay,” Harry murmurs to him. “Don’t worry.”

As Draco’s eyelids sag shut, twin tears drip down towards his temples.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_2 weeks later_

Draco grins at Hermione, and she beams back at him,.

“So anyway,” she tells Ron and Luna, in that lilting cheerleader voice she sometimes has. “Draco is one of the best humans.”

Ron gives a shake of his head, but he’s smiling. “One look at Harry crying. He did a little sweep of the room to see why, and then dropped these two fat tears, just for Harry.”

Ron steps forward so he can clap Harry on the shoulder. He chuckles. “She’s right, you know. You two are romance goals.”

“After that,” Hermione sends a smile in Draco’s direction, “finally, we got Harry in the shower.”

“And after _that,”_ Ron tells them, “is when my mom met you.”

Draco winces, looking down at his lap with a slight shake of his head. “So I heard.”

Hermione continues, “Yeah, you were awake but you had that good death rattle breathing going, sort of looking around with glazed eyes from the sedative potions. And Harry was loving on you.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “We are now a Celestine Warback song,” he says to Draco.

Draco grins because—while they aren’t perfect like that—Harry’s really cute when he’s embarrassed.

Hermione smiles teasingly at Harry, then looks at Draco. “I don’t know how you dealt with him these last few weeks, Draco. The day you opened your eyes, no one had even told Harry they were waking you up.”

“Because they were children. Graduated Hogwarts yesterday. They probably didn’t know themselves.”

Hermione rolled her eyes speaking to Draco. “It had been mentioned in the morning. No one wanted to field Harry’s questions about how it would go. Or if they didn’t wake you up that day after all, I think they thought Harry would be threatening the hospital's donation from the ministry.”

Harry’s jaw drops at that one. “I would never!”

Hermione giggles, and Harry moves from the fluffy rug to the half-heart couch besides him, lifting his legs in his lap. They decided to stay at Grimmauld because the media was parked outside Draco’s gates.

“Keep him on the yoga magic now, Draco. Might help with his _flexibility issues.”_ Hermione chortles and Harry heaves a silent sigh as they round the corner to the floo.

“Will do,” Draco calls.

A minute later, Harry is back with one eyebrow arched, the Malfoy arch, shaking his head as if that might clear the air.  
  


“Too much fun?”

Harry sinks down to the fluffy rug besides the couch again and leans his head against Draco’s leg. “It’s exhausting, all the drop-bys.”

Yesterday, it was Shacklebolt. The night before, Mr and Mrs. Weasley. This morning, the aurors had a meeting in his house.

Draco runs a hand through his soft hair. “You really are an ambivert, aren’t you Harry?”

“I need quiet sometimes.”

“It’s near bed time. Wanna go up?”

“Are you tired?” Harry’s eyes on him are slightly wide, as if Draco’s being tired three days after being cut loose by St. Mungo’s represents a real emergency.

“Nah,” Draco grins. “Just thought you might like it up there where it’s…quiet.” Draco shoves back the blanket on his lap, revealing his cock straining his lounge pants. “I’m going to start having wet dreams soon. This thing is out of control.”

“Yeah, because you got off all those pain potions this week. Same thing happened to me. Your dick goes haywire.”

“And I’m horny for my partner.”

Harry smiles thinly—probably because Draco’s grinning. As if the merriment of the last few days is an act, and he’s playing along just for his sake.

Draco shifts his legs so they’re off the couch. Harry moves to help him. He still has a few healing ribs, but he’s got almost all his strength back. It’s still tricky to get up off beds and couches, and when he gets up or sits down, Harry helps him.

His green eyes are gentle on Draco’s face.

Draco kisses him on the jaw, “My hero.”

Harry drops his gaze away from Draco’s face and Draco takes his hand. “Let’s go upstairs so you can blow me like you promised.”

Harry snorts.

“Better yet, I can blow you.”

Another snort from Mr. Healer’s Orders. “Don’t know how you think you can manage that.”

“You can straddle my face.”

“If you get off and breathe too hard—“

“Nothing will happen.”

Harry’s jaw tightens and he won’t look at him—not until they reach the stairs. That’s all he can ever do. Watch Draco like he might break, but even the stairs don’t hurt that bad now. He just grits his teeth a little, and his ribs are fucking fine.

Harry leads him carefully into the bedroom—where they’ve been sleeping the last two nights with Harry angled away so he won’t “tempt them” with his cock. As if Draco’s not hard as granite, too.

Draco has another healer check-in tomorrow morning at St. Mungo’s, and one thing he’s sure is not on the agenda is their sex life. There’s nothing wrong with Draco’s dick. His head is still shaved, until tomorrow morning when he could use a charm to grow it back. There are few gashes on his face, but they’re healing well.

Draco gets on the bed using a stool Harry put besides it, afraid his levitating magic will jostle him too much. Harry’s right besides him as Draco pulls his sweatpants down.

“You can roll on over if you want,” Draco tells him. “I’m just gonna jerk off with my spare hand.” He wiggles his fingers and Harry blows his breath out, then surprises him by doing just that. The stubborn bastard rolls away from him.

Hermione was right this morning when she was talking to Draco in the kitchen. Harry’s not himself. Not during the few hours he goes into the DMLE each day, and not when he’s here with Draco.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry squeezes his eyes shut and tries to regulate his breathing. His dick is so hard. He can feel the mattress bounce as Draco jerks himself off. Harry wants to spread his knees and get inside him so bad, he could scream. Even sucking him off would be a dream come true. Now that his lungs and ribs are mostly healed, he could enjoy it—but if he does that, he’ll want to take him, and…he can’t.  
  


It’s hard to explain, so he’s not going to try. For now, no one’s actually said he can take a dick, so it’s normal for him to say he’s waiting until he gets clearance.

Draco has other ideas. He scoots up behind him and starts rubbing his erection on him. Harry tries not to make a sound, but there’s a low groan he can’t seem to keep in.

“Feeling a little tempted, are we?” Draco reaches around to get to his dick, but he can’t because he can’t prop up on his bad arm and reach with the other one. Instead, the deviant reaches into his pants and starts going at him from the back.

“I know you’ve got a beater’s bat dick,” Draco says. “I should get down off the bed and walk around so I can suck it. “

“Nope. Just going to sleep.”

“Harry, it’s nine-thirty.”

“I’ve got that early meeting with the Wizengamot for Blaise’s pre-trial.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Draco blows his breath out. Then his cock throbs, and he re-commits. He can’t go on like this—without him. Harry’s not upset with him, his love for Draco is palpable. There’s no reason for this madness. He gets off the bed, walks around to his side, and goes for his dick. Harry turns over so his back’s to him again.

“Merlin, Harry. You’ve gone evil again.”

Draco gets back on the bed, and again, Harry turns himself away.

“Fuck.” By now, Draco’s frustrated and his ribs are getting sore. “If you don’t want to, your choice.”

Draco turns on his back and starts to jerk off, the same way he’s done in the shower for the last week. Harry rolls over to face him. For a second, Draco thinks he’s gotten lucky. Then he gets down off the bed and heads to the closet.

_Oh, Harry._

Draoo starts off the bed to find him in the closet, then Harry strides out of it.

“Stay there,” Harry snaps.

Draco throws up his hands, “Is there anything I can do, King Harry?”

“Go to sleep.”

Draco laughs.

“Don’t like it, go home. Better yet, go to Paris.”

Harry’s words are like a gut punch. “Oh so you want me to go to Paris?”

Draco keeps his tone calm, but his heart is racing. “Is that what’s behind this Mr. Chastity bullshit? This thing between us has finally run its course for you, so you don’t want to suck my cock or do other shit you used to be insane for?”

“Yeah, that’s it Draco. This thing between us has run its course.” Harry says it like the notion is absurd. “I just asked to move into the manor, but it’s over now.”

Draco’s ribs scream and he realizes that he’s kind of halfway panting. His heart races.

“How do I know it won’t be?”

“It isn’t,” Harry says hotly, “but maybe it should be.” He walks closer to the bed. “You like both of your arms? You want your head in one piece next time?”

“Next time? There’s a next time now?”

“There will _always_ be something. If you stay with me, there will be someone out to ruin us. Out to hurt us. Out to hurt you because you’re mine.”

“He…was out looking for _you_.”

“So you want to be a widower?”

Draco’s heart comes crashing up into his throat. Tears glint in his eyes like sunbursts, catching on the lamplight that’s streaming out of the bathroom door.

“I would fucking _love_ to be your widower.”

Harry stalks closer. For a moment, Draco thinks he might kiss him. Then he’s up on the bed, up on his knees lording over him a little.  
  


“What’s wrong with you?” Harry asks softly.

“Just a normal person who’s in love with someone and won’t let anything take it away.”

“I’m not someone,” Harry says quietly.

“Right—I forgot, you’re Harry Potter, the boy who lived.”

“I can’t not be.” Harry’s chest starts to pump. His face is twisted in pain. “I can’t start over even if I wanted to. Everywhere I go, people know me. People know my face. When we went to France, to the Louvre, a muggle place, some people recognized me.”

“Every one of them is not a crazed sociopath.”

“All it takes is just one.”

“All of life is just one anything. That’s what makes it interesting. Follow on your course and see what all your anythings are gonna be.”

“When I see those gashes on you…” Harry’s chest heaves. “All I hear is you choking on all that blood. I don’t even know what I did.” Harry’s words are groans. He moves his hand, and Draco can see his cheeks are streaked with shiny wetness.

“I thought you were dead, Draco.”

Draco moves towards him, but Harry holds his hands out with a shake of his head.

“Every crazy person in a hundred mile radius will always flock to us, and it’s because of me. If you stop seeing _me—_ “ his voice crack. “You can just be normal.”

“That’s faulty logic. I’m not as famous as you, but I still draw the crazies too. You can’t pit two potentialities against each other and say one wins. And also let me tell you something.” Harry wipes his face, his nostrils flaring as his jaw tics. “I wasn’t normal, any time we were apart. I couldn’t forget you ever, and I thought I was insane. I wasn’t fulfilled. I wasn’t peaceful. I was missing something, and that something was you. Not in vogue to say that, is it? Makes me sound a little crazy?”

“No,” he whispers. Harry wipes his cheeks.

Draco moves onto the bed, lies on his back and holds his arm open. “Come besides me. _Please._ I know I look like Mad Eye Moody, but I just want to hold you.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Harry lays his head against his chest like he asks—the first time he’s done since before…what happened. He blows his breath out slowly. Then he works up the courage to kiss his shoulder.

Draco is looking at him, smiling just a little.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, baby. Put your arm over my chest—up at the top—like over my pecs.”

When Harry doesn’t do it, he’s scared he’s going to hurt him, Draco shifts around so he’s on his side more, and he lays his cheek against Harry’s throat.

“ _Please._ Put your arms around me, stubborn arse.”

Tears drip down Harry’s face he does. His hand runs over his shaved head. “I can’t even tell you how…” Harry exhales slowly.

“How what?”

“How I felt…when I didn’t know.”

  
  
“Didn’t know what,” Draco whispers. Harry lifts the hand behind his head to wipe his eyes and forces himself to say it.

“If you were okay. There was _nothing_ I could do for you while you were in there. No power, no influence, none of it mattered…” Harry splays his hand out on his nape, shifting Draco so he can see his face. “Why did you do that, Draco?”

Draco’s lips curl in a sad smile. “I don’t know. But I can guess.”

Harry knows what he’ll say before he says it. “Probably because I love you.”


	20. Epilogue

Draco finally convinces Harry to talk to somebody. It’s an older man—who’s gay—so bonus points for that. Draco is almost back to full strength. Thankfully, none of his wounds were permanent, but Blaise was still sentenced to Azkaban.

After Harry moved into the manor, they decided on a little vacation to the south of France. Two weeks on the Malfoy yacht, both to celebrate Draco’s full recovery and for Harry’s birthday. Draco is packing their toys on a Friday morning in July when Harry returns from the magical psychologist.

“Whatcha got there?” Harry’s mouth finds his neck, and Draco groans as he pinches his nipple.

Harry picks up one of their new toys. “Matching rainbow cock rings, Malfoy?”

Draco chuckles. “Not as fun as these.” Draco opens the bag to show an array of plugs. “Remember what you said, yeah?”

“Yeah yeah.”

“What was it?” Draco prods.

“I’ll wear one and let you have control—on the boat _only.”_

Draco grins. “We’ll be on the boat for a long damn time.”

“How do you feel?” Harry asks. 

“Right as rain. I saw the healer this morning and she went over some exercises with me. One of them will be something I can do if I’m in the fuck position. Over a bottom.”

Spots of color touch his cheekbones. “Oh yeah?” He sounds bored.

  
Draco kisses his mouth. “Let me do it now. First though, tell me how it went Richard.”

“I liked him well enough.”

“Yeah? Did you feel like you could talk to him?”

Harry smirks. “Trying to get me out of your ear?”

Draco kisses his jaw. “Never.”

___________________________________________________________________________

It’s a fuckfest on the boat the second they arrive in France. Harry’s just taken him and Draco can’t help how hard he passes out. When he wakes up, Harry is curled beside him—careful even in sleep not to hurt him, although their legs are twined together. Harry’s eyes are tired and happy when he wakes a minute later.

Harry gets on his knees in front of him and runs his hands up his outstretched legs. Draco smiles and sits up—because he looks thoughtful…maybe anxious. He thinks it’s because Harry's never been away from work for so long.

“You good, baby?” Draco asks. 

“Just looking at you.”

“A little weird to be off in France with someone for two full weeks, Mr. Head Auror?”

“Not someone.” Harry smiles—and it’s so damn sweet. “You.”

“And who am I?” Draco teases.

“Draco Malfoy. The auror. Maybe one day with a different surname.”

That makes Draco grin. “Which one?”

“Which one sounds good?” Harry smirks. 

“Potter,” Draco teases, “are you proposing to me?”

Harry’s face goes somber. “Would you want me to be?”

“Do you want to be?” Draco laughs.

Harry’s eyes close. “Yes, of course.”

“You do?” Draco’s laughing again, because truth—he’s fucking elated.

“Yeah. But it’s too soon, right? And maybe too much for you, anyway.”

“Too much for me? This is some proposal.” Draco snorts.

Harry wraps his arms around him, scoots up closer so that he can put one arm around his back. Harry kisses his jaw. “Draco. I love you. Do you want to be my husband? One day? When you’re ready?”

“Do you want to be _my husband?”_ Draco kisses his cheek, and his eyes shut again.

Harry swallows. “It scares me how much.”

Draco laughs. “Want to do it here?”

“Get married?”

  
“If you want to.” Draco kisses his mouth—slow and gentle, deep and hungry. “If you’re sure and I’m sure—why wait? Unless you want your friends there.”

“We could do a celebration later.”

Now they’re kissing hard and fast, and Draco could feel how nervous he is. He keeps pulling off his mouth to gulp for air.

“Is it impulsive?” Harry whispers.

“I don’t think so.”

They’re so good together. Even better than Draco ever dreamed they could be. They live together at Malfoy Manor and Harry’s never been better. Work’s never run more smoothly.The kids get along beautifully, and they already function as a family together. Draco kisses him again.

“This could be the honeymoon?” Harry asks.Draco chuckles. “Sure, I’ll try to actually show you France.”

“Married on the yacht’s deck? Under the stars?”

Draco nods.

Harry’s mouth spreads into a big grin. “Would you want to do that?”

Draco pulls him close. “Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m so fucking sure.”

“You want me and all my baggage? Never having privacy when we’re out? Too many cameras everywhere we go?”

“I want all of those things. Do you want me with my stained past? My kinks? My brooding nature?”

Harry shuts his eyes. “I want nothing more.”

Draco kisses his eyelids…then his cheeks.

Harry’s eyes catch his and hold. Draco has a thought: _He must be nervous. That’s a face of his I’ve never seen._

Then Harry’s hand grabs his hand under the covers.

“I love you,” he whispers, holding his gaze. “Draco, are you sure?”

He gives him a reassuring smile. “So sure.”

Draco feels something cool slip his finger. For the longest second, he can’t take a breath. His vision blurs and he blinks his teary eyes to look at him.

Harry smiles, small and tentative at first, then hugely. He pulls out another ring, his lashes dark against his cheeks as he looks down at it in his palm.

Draco takes it from him, holding it up, noticing the Malfoy and Peverell coat of arms engraved inside. “This is perfect. Where did you get these?”

“In Diagon Alley.”

“When?”

“After we got back from Paris, the last time.”

Harry’s dimples peek out even as Draco’s eyes get blurry.

“That was months ago.”

Harry nods once. “I didn’t want to rush things.”

“Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to be your husband.” Draco kisses his lips and slides his ring on.

________________________________________________________________________________

They say their vows up on the yacht’s deck late the following night, with no one listening but the ocean waves. They go to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms and wake up the same way to a golden morning.

“Husbands?” Harry asks later, as they drink coffee on the deck.

Draco grins so big it hurts. “Husbands.”

**Author's Note:**

> How's the story, so far? Should I continue?  
> Comment or kudos if I you'd like another chapter.


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